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SC 


THE 


QUARTERLY    REVIEW. 


VOL.  112. 


PDBUSHED  IM  :'*' 


JULY  ^-  OCTOBER,  181^=; 


L  ONDON: 
JOHN  MURRAY,  ALBEMARLE  STREICT. 

1862. 


10038  0 


Losnos ■ 

I'rinlcd  iij  ViiLUUt  Cuovta  ukI  Soss,  Sumrord  Street,  and  Oiailiig  Croii. 


CONTENTS 


OIC 


No.  223. 


Abt.  Page 

I. — ^Memoirs  of  Sir  Maro  iBambard  Bmnel,  OWil  Engineer, 
Vioe-President  of  tho  Koyal  Society,  Correepouding 
Member  of  the  Institute  of  France,  &c.  &c.  By 
Richftrd  Beamish,  F.R.S.    London,  1862         -        -      1 

II. — 1.  Smeex  Arohnologioal  Oolleotions,  1846-1861. 

2.  The  Seaboard  and  the  Down.   By  an  Old  Vicar.  1860. 

3.  Handbook  for  Travellera  in  Kent  and  Snosex.  1858.      89 

m. — Lives  of  the  ArchbiBhops  of  Canterbury.  By  Walter 
Faiqohar  Hook,  D.D.,  Dean  of  Chichester.  Vols.  I. 
and  11.    London,  1861-2 82 

IV. — 1.  BegnlationB  for  the  Yolnnteer  Force,  1861. 

2.  Constitution  et  Foissance  Hilitaire  de  la '  France 
et  de  I'Angleterre.  Lieut.-Col.  Martin,  S"*  Imp. 
Lanciers.     Spectateur  Militaire.     1861. 

3.  The  Three  Panics.  Bichard  Cobden,  Esq.,  M.P. 
1862 110 

v. — T^igliwh  Poetry  from  Dryden  to  Cowper       -        -        -  146 

VI. — 1.  International  Exhibition,  1862.    Official  Catalogues : 
Industrial  and  Fine  Arts  Departments. — Illustrated 
Catalogue,  Parts  1 — 6. 
2.  History  of  the  International  Exhibition.    By  John 
Hollingshead 179 

Vll. — 1.  Hawaii :    the  Past,   Present,   and  Future  of  its 

Island  -  Kingdom  ;  an  Historical   Account   of   tho 

Sandwich  Islands.    By  Manloy  Hopkins,  Hawaiian 

Consul-Goneral ;  with  a  Preface  by  tho  Bishop  of 

'^p^ord.     London,  1862. 

2,  History  of  the  Hawaiian  or  Sandwich  Islands.     By 

James  Jackson  Jarrea.    Boston,  1817. 
S.  The  Ishmd  World  of  the  Pacific.     By  the  Bev.  H. 
T.  Cheever.     Glasgow. 

4.  Life  in  the  Sandwich  Islands.  By  the  Rev.  H.  T. 
Cheever.    London,  1851        -        -        -        -        -  219 


IT  COMTSMTfl. 

Art.  Paga 

VIII. — 1.  Bicentenary  of  the  Bartholomew  Ejectment  in 
1862.  St.  James's  Hall  Addresses,  by  Eev.  Robert 
Yaugban,  D.D.,  Bev.  John  Btonghton,  Alfred  Booker, 
Esq.,  Rev.  J.  Edmond,  D.D.,  and  Ber.  J.  Spence, 
D.D.    London,  1862. 

2.  The  Bicentenary,  the  Liberation  Society,  and  to  what 
do  its  Principles  tend  ?  A  Lecture.  By  the  Bev. 
J.  B.  Clifford.    London,  1862. 

3.  Facts  and  Fictions  of  the  Bicentenary.  A  Sketch 
from  1640  to  1662.  By  the  Bev.  T.  Lathbury. 
Loudon,  1862. 

4.  How  did  they  get  there?  or,  the  Nonconformist 
!UiniBter8ofl662.  By  the  Bev.  J.  Venables.  London, 
1862. 

5.  The  Bicentenary  Commemoration  of  1662.  A  Lec- 
tnre.     By  the  Bev.  J.  Bardsley.    Cambridge,  1862. 

6.  A  Bay  of  Light  cast  npon  St.  Bartholomew's  Day, 
1C62.    London,  1862. 

7.  Proceedings,  principally  in  the  Cotuity  of  Kent,  in 
connection  with  the  Parliament  called  in  1640. 
Edited  by  the  Bev.  E.  B.  Larking.  Oamden  Society. 
London,  1862 23G 


CONTENTS 

OF 

No.  224. 


Abt.  Page 

I.— Les  Mis&itblee.    Par  Victor  Hugo.    Bnaellee,  1862  -  271 
n. — The    Platonic  DiBlogaes   for    English  Beaders.      By 

William  Whewell,  D.D.     3  Vols.     1869-1861  -  306 

m. — 1.  The  Jonmal  and  CorrcBpondence  of  William  Lord 

Auckland.     By  the  Bight  Hon.  and  EU^t  Bov.  the 

Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells.   Vols.  Ill,  and  IV.   1862. 

2.  The  Private  Diary  of  Bichard  Dnke  of  Buckingham 

and  Chandos.    In  3  Vols.     1862   -        -        -        -  347 

rV.— 1.  CompMmcnt  de  L'CEnvre  do  1830,  Etablissemcnt, 
dans  les  Pays  Transatlantiqnos.    Bmxelles,  1860. 

2.  Histoire  du  Commerce  et  de  la  Marine  en  Belgique. 
Par  Ernest  van  Bn^ssel.    Bmzelles,  1861. 

3.  A  Sketch  of  the  History  of  Flemish  Literature  and 
its  Celebrated  Authors.  By  Octave  Delepierre,  LL.D. 
London.  1860. 

4.  L'Avenir  Indnstriel,  Conmiercial,  et  Maritime  do  la 
Belgique.  Par  N.  A.  Henry,  Consul  -  General. 
Brnxelles. 

5.  Notes  of  an  Agricultural  Tour  in  Belgium,  Holland, 
and  the  Bhine.  By  Eobert  Scott  Bum.  London, 
1862. 

6.  La  Nationality  de  la  Belgique,  <fec.  Par  un  Patrioto 
Beige.     Bruxelles,  1859. 

7.  La  Belgique  Ind^pendante.  Par  Jos.  Boniface. 
Bruxelles,  1860. 

8.  Bichard  Cobden  Boi  des  Beiges.    Brnzelles,  1862. 

9.  L'Oiganisation  Politique,  Judiciale,  et  Administrativo 
do  la  Belgique.     Bruxolles,  1858. 

10.  Annuaire  de  rindnstrio  de  la  Beige.     1862. 

11.  Beports  by  H.  M.  Secretanes  of  Embassy  and  Loga- 
tion  on  the  Manufactures  and  Commerce  of  Uio 
Countries  in  which  they  reside,  No.  5.     1862  -        -  379 

V. — 1.  L'Histoiro  du  Consulat  et  de  I'Empire.    Par  M.  A. 
Thiers.    Tome  xx.,  Livre  ler.     Paris,  1862. 
2.  Les  Misi^i-ables.    Tome  iii.    Bruxelles,  1862  -        -  410 

VT.— 1.  Aids  to  Faith.     Edited  by  William  Thomson,  D.D., 
Lord  Bishop  of  Gloucester  and  Bristol.     1861. 
2.  Boplies  to  '  Essays  and  Beviews.'     1862. 


IT  OOHTENTa. 

Art.  Page 

3.  Seven  Anawers  to  Soven  Essays  and  Eeviews.  By 
J.  K.  Griffiths.     1862. 

4.  A  Letter  to  the  Right  Eev.  the  Lord  Bishop  of 
Oxford,  on  the  Defence  of  the  '  Essays  and  Reviews.' 
By  tho  Eev.  A.  T.  HoflseU.     1862. 

5.  Inspiration  and  Interpretation.  By  the  Eev.  J.  W. 
Bnrgon.    1861. 

6.  Scepticism  and  the  Church  of  England.  By  Lord 
Lindsay.     1861, 

7.  Preface  to  Sennons  on  tho  Beatitudes.  By  the  Rov. 
G.  Moherly,  D.D. 

8-  Tho  Hevolation  of  GoA  tho  Probation  of  Man  ;  two 
Sermons  preached  before  the  University  of  Oxford. 
By  tho  Right  Eev.  the  Loid  Bishop  of  Oxford.  1861. 

9.  Tracts  for  Priests  and  People.  First  Series,  1861. 
Second  Series,  1862. 

10.  Tho  Philosophical  Answer  to  the  '  Essays  and  Re- 
views.*   1862. 

11.  Charge  of  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Salisbnry.     18G1. 

12.  Speech  of  E.  Fhillimore,  D.C.L.,  Q.C.     1862. 

13.  Defence  of  Dr.  Williams.    By  J.  F.  Stephen.     1862. 

14.  Judgment  on  '  Essays  and  Eeviews.'     1862. 

15.  Persecution  for  tho  Word.    By  Rowland  Williams, 
D.D.     1862. 

16.  Observations  on  Pantheistic  Principles.    By  W.  H. 
Mill,  D.D.     1861. 445 

VII. — 1.  Narrative  of  the  Rise  and  ProgrcsH  of  the  Tacping 
Rebellion  in  China.  By  Commander  Lindesay  Brine, 
E.K.,  P.R.G.8.    London,  1862. 

2.  Five  Months  on  tho  Yang-tsze.  By  Thomas  W. 
Blakiston,  late  Captain  Royal  Artillery.  London, 
1862. 

3.  Narrative  of  tho  War  with  China  in  1860.  ByLicut.- 
Coloncl  G.  J.  Wolseley.    London,  1862. 

4.  Tho  London  and  China  Telegraph,  v.  4. 

5.  The  Church  Mission  Eecord,    Oct.  1862         -        -  500 

Vni.— 1.  North  America.      By  Anthony  Trollopo.     2  Vols. 
London,  1862. 
^  2.  The  South  Vindicated.    London,  18G2. 

/3.  The  Eccognition  of  the  Southern  Confederation.     By 
J.  Spence.    London,  1862. 
4.  Union,  Disunion,  and  Reunion.     London,  1862. 

5.  Memoirs  of  Thomas  Bewick.  Newcastle  and  London, 
1860. 

6.  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Washington  Irving.    By 

hifi  Nephew,  P.  Irving,    2  Vols.    London,  1861       -  535 


THE 

QUARTERLY    REVIEW, 


Art.  I. — Memoirs  of  Sit  Marc  Isamhard  Brunei^  Civil  Engineer^ 
Vice-President  of  the  Royal  Society,  Corresjioitdiny  Member  of 
tfie  Institute  of  France,  SfC.  Sfc.  By  Richard  Beamish,  F.R.S. 
London,  1862. 

THE  industry  of  England  owes  much  to  the  foreigners  who 
have  from  time  to  time  become  settled  and  naturalised 
amongst  us.  Dr.  Percy  has  stated  in  his  'Metallurgy'*  that 
we  are  indebted  to  German  miners,  introduced  into  England 
by  the  wisdom  of  Elizabeth,  for  the  early  development  of  our 
minei"al  resources.  It  also  appears  that  the  Dutch  were  our 
principal  instructors  in  civil  and  mechanical  engineering ;  drain- 
ing extensive  marsh  and  fen  lands  along  the  east  coast  in  the 
reign  of  James  I.,  and  erecting  for  us  pumping-engines  and 
mill-machinery  of  various  kinds.  Many  of  the  Flemings,  driven 
from  their  own  country  by  the  persecutions  of  the  Duke  of 
Alva,  sought  and  found  an  asylum  in  England,  bringing  with 
them  their  skill  in  dyeing,  cloth-working,  and  horticulture; 
while  the  thousands  of  French  artizans  who  flocked  into  the 
kingdom  on  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  by  Louis 
XIV.  introduced  the  arts  of  manufacturing  in  glass,  silk,  velvet, 
lace,  and  cambric,  which  have  since  become  established  branches 
of  industry,  giving  employment  to  large  numbers  of  our  popu- 
lation. 

The  religious  persecutions  in  Belgium  and  France  not  only 
banished  from  those  countries  free  Protestant  thought,  but  at 
the  same  time  expelled  the  best  industrial  skill,  and  England 
eventually  obtained  the  benefit  of  both.  Those  successive  addi- 
tions to  our  population  of  men  of  independent  convictions, 
trained  in  the  arts  of  peace,  served  to  enrich  our  blood  and  to 
elevate  and  strengthen  our  national  character.  Thus  it  lias 
happened  that  the  love  of  political  and  religious  liberty  which 

•  'Metallargr,'  by  John  Percy.  M.D.,  F.R.S.  London,  1861.  In  the  first 
Tolnme — all  that  has  yet  been  piibliBhed  of  this  important  work— Dr.  Percy  gives 
a  full  and  scientific  account  of  metallurgical  processes  generally,  and  of  thv  appli- 
cation of  these  to  copper,  zinc,  and  brass.  Every  page  of  it  atTords  proof  of  Dr. 
Percy's  large  experience,  unwcnried research,  and  scrupnlons  accuracy.  The  other 
metals,  he  tdls  us,  are  to  be  treated  in  a  second  volume. 

VoL  112.— iVo.  22J.  B  we 


we  have  chcrislicd  as  a  people,  and  the  av^lum  which  we  have! 
in  all  times  provjdwl  for  fi-ce-miiidftl  men  of  other  Iniuls,  have 
conti'ibiiU'd  in  no  small  degreo  to  the  developraent  of  dial  extra- 
ordinary industrial  encrgry  which  su  prominently  chamcierisL's 
the  Kutflaiid  of  the  present  day.  Our  mechanical  proficiency, 
however,  has  boea  a  comparatively  recem  growth.  Like  many 
others  uf  our  national  qualities,  it  has  come  out  suddenly  and  un- 
exjiectedlv.  But,  though  late  learners,  we  have  been  so  apt  that 
we  have  already  <>utstrip|7i-d  our  teachers  ;  and  there  is  searccljrM 
a  bniDch  of  manufacture  in  which  we  have  not  come  up  to,  U"" 
imleed  we  have  not  surpassed,  the  most  advanced  continental 
nations. 

The  invention  of  the  steam-engine,  towards  the  end  of  last 
Century,  had  the  effei-t  of  (fivini;  an  pxtranrdinnrv  impKus  to 
improvement,  particularty  in  various  branches  of  inin  manu-  ^ 
lacture ;  and  we  began  to  exjwrt  niacliuies,  engines,  andfl 
ironwork  to  I'rancc,  Germany,  and  the  Low  Countries,  whence  " 
we  had  before  imported  them,  Althnnjrh  this  great  invention 
was  |>erfected  by  \Vatl,  inueli  of  the  prplinnnary  investigation 
in  eonnertion  with  the  subject  bad  iKtrn  eoiwluclcd  by  emi- 
nent Fn-neh  refugees  :  as  by  I)esau*;liers,  tlie  author  of  the 
well-known  *  Course  of  Experimental  Philosophy,'  and  by 
Denis  Papin,  for  some  time  Curator  of  the  Royal  ^ciety, 
whose  many  ingenious  applications  of  steam-power  prove 
bim  to  have  been  a  person  of  great  and  original  ability.  Hut 
the  most  remarkable  of  tliese  early  inventors  was  unquestion- 
ably Thomas  Savery — also  said  to  have  been  a  French  irfugpe, 
thougli  very  liltlo  is  known  of  him  jjtirsonally — wlio  ii  enttthn) 
to  tho  distinguishetl  merit  of  having  invented  and  constructed 
the  first  working  steam-engine.  Ail  these  men  paved  tlie  way 
for  Watt,  who  placed  the  co|X'sU^ine  on  tlie  M'nrk  nf  which  tlie 
distinguished  Frenchmen  had  in  a  great  measure  laid  tlie  foun- 
dations. ^ 

.Many  other  men  of  eminence,  descendants  of  the  refugees,  V 
might  be  nametl,  who  have  from   time  to  time  added  greatly 
to    our  scientiiic    and    productive  n.'sourccs.      Amongst    namea 
which  incidentally  oceur  to  us  are  tliosi;  of  nullond  tlie  nptirian, 
aiKl    I'ourdrinier   the    invLtitor    of   the   jiaper-maklng   machine. 
Passing  over  these,  we  come  to  the  subject  of  tlie  prewmt  article, 
the  lAst  of  tlie  p'cat  Frenchmen  wboiii  Knglan<l  is  proml  to  claim 
as  her  sons  hy  aihjption.  although  France  may  claim  tliem  by 
birtlu     Driven   from    his  own   country   by  imlitical   revolution, 
Brunei  took  refuge  first  in  America  imd  subsequently  in  Fngland,  _ 
After  the   lapse  of  centuries.,  our  island  is  stdl  found  ofFeilng  aH 
retmt  to  fugitives  alike  from  imperial  or  democratic  opprcsaion ; 

where 


I 


d 


itteU. 


wlicre  they  are  lice  to  spcok,  to  write,  to  labour,  and  to  InvL-Dt, 
in  perfect  iccurity. 

Many  were  tbe  emigres  who  flocked  over  tti  En^liuid  at  the 
outbre-ak  of  tlie  great  French  Rcvolutiuii  «f  1 78U,  uud  who  found 
temporary  refuge  from  the  troubles  of  their  unhappy  country, 
maintaining  themselves  by  teaching,  by  the  practice  of  art,  and 
In  iither  industrial  pursuits.  Of  these.  [Mrrhaps  the  most  djstin- 
gnlshed  was  Marc  Isambanl  Brunei,  who  for  the  greater  port  of 
his  life  fallowed  tbe  profession  of  an  engineer,  Icayin^  behind 
him  a  sou  as  illustrious  as  himself, — Isainbard  Kin^om  Brunei, 
the  engineer  of  the  Great  Western  and  other  railways,  the  de- 
signer of  the  Great  ICastcm  steam-ship,  and  the  architect  of 
many  im{>nrtant  public  works. 

It  is  said  that  there  is  in  the  true  history  of  every  life,  if  it 
could  be  dis<:-overed,  a  trace  of  the  quality  which  is  commonly 
called  romance.  N'or  was  this  element  by  any  means  wanting? 
in  the  life  of  the  elder  Brunei,  especially  in  its  earlier  sta|^>s. 
Mr.  Beamish,  bis  friend  and  pupil,  has  been  at  tlie  pains  t/> 
embody  the  events  of  Brunei's  clietjuered  career  in  the  interesting 
oamitive  now  before  iis,  from  »liirh  a  very  complete  idea  may 
be  formed  of  the  illustrious  engineer's  life  and  labours. 

Marc  Isambard  Brunei  was  bom  on  the  S5tb  of  April,  1769, 
at  the  little  village  of  Hacqueville,  in  Normandy.     The  place  is 
1  araonjr  '  the  rasty  fields  of   France,' — in  the  midst  of 
of  those  bald,  monotonous  plains  of  corn-land,  with  scarcely 

bwlgc  or  tree  within  sight,  the  iretjuent  repetition  of  whirh 
makes  one  wonder  how  the  country  vvex  came  to  l>e  called, 
OYen  by  its  natives,  'la  belle  France.'  Brunei's  father  was 
a  respectable  agriculturist,  of  narrow  means  but  ancient  family, 
holdinf^  the  hereditary  office  of  Maitre  dei  Postes  of  the 
district.  And  lhu<i  it  happene<l  that  the  Brunelx  naturally 
came  to  be  myalists  when  the  revolutionary  periiMl  arrived, 
iheir  tnherit.incu  lK>lng  at  stake. 

Marc  Isambard  was  the  second  of  two  sons,  and  was  early  in- 
tended for  the  priesthood.  When  eight  years  old  he  was  sent 
to  schfX)!  at  the  Collejje  of  Gisors,  wliere  he  received  the  first 
rudiments  of  learning.  But  even  at  tlmt  early  age  the  in- 
stinirt  of  canstruction  was  strong  within  him.  He  wns  much 
fuiidcr  of  tlif  village  rarp«mter's  slioji  tliau  of  sciiiKil  ;  and 
ooaxinir,  entreaty,  and  punishment  alike  failed  in  making  a 
bopt>ful  scholar  of  him.  His  father  tried  solitary  confinement, 
shutting  him  up  in  a  room  with  some  grim  family  jwrtrnits. 
The  eyes  of  one  of  these  seemed  to  follow  the  boy  round  the 
room,  so  that,  unable  to  endure  it  longer,  ho  set  a  table  against 
the  wall,  mounted    it,  and  cut   the   eyes   out.     All    repression 

u  2  proved 


I 


proved  vain.     The  son's   instinct  was  truer    tlian  tlio  fatber's 
judgTQont.     He  continued  to  spend   in  tlitr  C8r|>cuh;T's  sliop  the 
Iioiira   he  could  sjmre  i'nJin  his  tasks  and  his  school.      lie  drow  h 
lams  and  jihuis,  and  k'arnt  Ui  handle  laoh,  until  his  father  was  H 
almost  ill  dcs^mir.  ' 

At  eleven,  young  Brunei  was  sent  to  the  ecctcsiaistical  scminarj 
of  St.  \icaise  at  Houeo,  his  father  still  hojiin;;  to  secure  luni  for 
the  church.  But  ihc  hoy  cnrric*!  his  strong  love  of  mechanics 
with  him.  It  is  said  tlint,  one  day,  seeing  a  new  tool  exhii>ile<l  In 
iL  cutler's  windi>w,  he  coveted  it  so  nnich  tliat  he  pawnt^d  his  haC 
to  possess  it.  One  advantage  which  he  derived  Irom  the  school 
at  St.  Nicaise  was  the  instruction  in  drawin;;  which  he  there 
ohtBiiied  under  a  competent  master.  In  his  play  hours  he 
took  delight  io  watching  the  ships  along  the  quay,  and  one  day 
his  curiowty  was  excited  by  the  sigrht  of  some  lar^je  iron-ca$tin»s  ^ 
just  landed  from  an  Kn|;Iish  ship.  What  were  they':'  How  hailfl 
they  been  made?  Where  had  they  come  from?  His  eager 
inouiriea  were  soon  answered.  Tliey  were  parts  of  a  fire-enginn, 
inteiuled  for  the  great  Paris  Waterworks  ;  the  engim-  was  to 
pump  water  by  the  power  of  steam  ;  anil  the  castings  had  been 
made  in  Kngland,  M'hcnce  thev  had  just  amve(h  *  England  1 ' 
exclaimed  tbe  boy ;  *ah  !  when  I  am  a  man,  1  will  go  and  sea 
the  countr>'  where  such  jC^rand  machines  are  made.' 

Ketumcil  home,  he  proceeded  with  liis  mechanical  recreations, 
amongst  otiier  things  making^  musical    iustrumentii  ol   diO'erent 
sorts.      It  is  even  said  that  he  then  invented  a  nightcap-making 
machine,  which   is  still    used    by  the  peasantry   in    tliat  part  of 
Normandy.     The  father,  seeing  his  son  cnpro&'ied  by  such  pur 
suits,  at  length  lost  all   i-:!pr  of  his  succeeding  to  the  panK-hiaJ 
cure  for  which  he  bad  <lL";iincd  btm.     *  Ah,  mon  cher  Isambard, 
said  he,  'si  tu  prends  re  partJ-Ia,  tu  vegcteraB  toute  ta  vie.'     At 
length  it  was  flcteriniiiiHl  tliat  young  Ilnitiel  should  cinalify  him- 
self to  enter  the  nai  y.      He  returned  to  Kiiuen  ti>  study  witli  tltat 
object,  and  in  17Hii,  at  seventeen,  he  was  nomijialc<l  to  a  royal 
corvette  us  *  voluntaire  d'honncur.'     While  serving;  in  that  nink^| 
be    continued    his    mechanical    pursuits  ;     rihI,    nm4mgst    4tther^^ 
instruments,  he  then  mmle  a  ipiadraiit  in  cIkuiv,  which  was  so 
accurately  constructed,  that  dunng  his  connexion  with  tlie  navjc^l 
he  required  to  use  no  other.  ^| 

His  ship  having'  been  paid  off  in  1792,  Brunei  went  to   Paris 
in  search  of  further  employment.     But  the  Revolution,  wliicli^ 
was  in  full  caxecr,  renderet)  tluit  city  n  V(tv  unsafe  place  foK^f 
so   outspoken  a   royalist    as  Brunei.       With   the    iueautionsness^^ 
of  youth,    he  avowed  and  defended   his  opinions    in  tJie  be.'ir- 
jng  of  many   bystanders,  on  tlic  very  day  that  sentience  was 

pronounced 


I 

I 
1 


d 


71ie  BnauU. 


pronounced  upou  Louis  XVI.  Afterwards,  in  an  aoj*ry  con- 
tention with  some  ultm-republicau*  in  a  cafo,  be  caJletl  to  his 
dog,  *  \"ii;ng,  citorenl'  tjcowliufj  looks  were  turned  upon  him 
fruin  all  sides ;  and  he  ust-d  nrterwords  [i>  sav  tliat  his  imprutlcni'C 
rm  tlic  occnsiun  bad  nrarlj  cost  him  bia  life.  But  tlu-  aiually 
nxh  remark  of  auotbiT  of  tite  jKirlv  bavin^  fur  ibu  moment 
direrted  uttcntiou  from  UimsL'lf,  be  seisMid  ibe  opportunity  of 
escaping  bv  a  bnck-door,  and  flc<l  from  Pftris  early  next  morning. 
The  king  was  bchendcd;  and  a  tlirill  of  horror  passeil  throu{jb 
vxery  lovutisl  bcaru  At  Hncquevilk',  Brunei  felt  lie  was  not 
sofc  in  liis  fatber's  bouse.  He  took  shelter  for  a  time  with  M. 
Carpentier,  the  American  Consul  at  Houen,  and  it  was  under 
his  roof  that  he  first  met  the  young  English  lady  who,  after 
mauT  trials  and  vicissitudes,  eventually  became  his  wife. 

Sophia  Kini^om  was  then  but  sixteen  years  old, — l>euutiful, 
amiable,  and  aeconipUsbed,  She  was  a  native  of  Plymouth, 
wUmicp  slie  lind  been  sent  by  her  friends  to  Rouen,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  perfecting:  her  knowledge  of  French  ;  and  she  was 
rmidtag  at  tlie  Carpentiers'  with  tliat  object.  She  had  scarcely 
been  a  year  in  tlie  country  when  the  Kevolution  broke  out  at 
l^ris,  mid  the  mob  in  tlie  provincial  towns  made  baste  to  imi- 
latf,  where  thcv  hail  not  already  anticipated,  the  barbarities  of 
the  capiinl.  Two  young:  lailies  of  Rouen  were  overheard  playing 
a  loynl  ist  air  on  their  pianoforte,  ^v^lpn  the  cry  '  A  la  l.nntrrne  V  was 
nuscd,  and  they  were  dracged  into  the  5tre(?ts  and  murdered.  It 
wos  clear  that  Houen  was  no  safe  place  for  foreigners,  and  Miss 
Kin^ilom,  like  many  others,  prepared  to  leave  it.  She  proposed  Ut 
accompany  a  family  alxiut  to  set  out  for  the  West  Indies,  and  who 
wert?  willing  to  take  her  umler  their  protection  ;  but  an  illness 
with  wliirb  sbe  suddenly  became  seized  prevented  her  from  acconi- 
p^nylng;  them,  and  she  remained  wiili  M.  Carjienticr  to  partici- 
pnte  in  the  danffers  and  the  sufferings  of  the  Keign  of  Terror. 

It  was  nbout  this  time  that  Brunei  arriveil  at  the  house  of  his 
rehiti\e,  when  on  attachment  of  the  purest  and  Bti-ori;;pst  kind  at 
finer  sprang;  up  between  him  and  Miss  Kingiloni.  'ITil*  seclu>ion 
in  which  thev  were  cornprllnil  to  live  furnished  abundant  o;)por- 
tunity  for  its  cultivation  ;  and  die  perils  of  tlieir  situation  not 
intproiiabty  sensed  to  quicken  tlieir  mutual  sympathy,  audinake 
them  all  the  more  <iear  to  each  other. 

An  outbreak  of  tbn  mob  look  place.  The  royn'ists  in  vain 
rndeavnuml  to  meet  it  by  resistance;  they  were  over[Wwered  by 
tbe  toHS  ettldttn,  and  the  respectable  iuliabitanti  of  the  place 
barrioidetl  themselves  within  doors.  Meanwhile  a  column  of  the 
ti'Tniutinnists  was  on    the  march  from  Hrittnnv  and   Nonnandy 

Pttri*  by  way  of  Uouen,     It  was  feared  that  the  opportunity 

u'ould 


would   \k   taken    by  tlir    inoh  of  ^vrrakin^  Ti^n^oancv    tm  aid 
of  Hic   inyal    iiiliahitaiiU  al'  the  plarc  as  had  Uiki^ii  jvirt  in  th( 
recciil  pmceetiinas ;  ajid  as  Uruin-l  ivns  oat*  of  these,  he  felt 
hh  liic  was  in  peril,  and  he  determined  to  fly.     M.  Carpcntit 
advi«*il    him  to  tfike  ship  for   the  United   States ;  ami   lie  pro- 
cure<),  Uiuugh    with   difTicuIty,  the   requisiti;  jinsspirt,      In 
excitement  of  the  moment,  tlie  j>a!>8]>ort  was  left  bt^himl  ;  and  il 
WBS  only  when  llrmiel  found  himself  on   board  tJie  America 
ship  'Liberty  '  that  he  discovered  his  loss,     liis  ready  in^enuil 
and   presence  of  mind  enabled   him  to  overcome  the  difiieultyj 
Proeuring  thn  loan  of  n  fpIIow-|iiisseiifier*s  |inss|iort,  he  cupiwl  il 
with  so  mueb  aceuiacy  tliat,  on  its  rxainiiiation  by  the  captain  of 
the  republican  frigate,  by  whom   the  '^Liberty'  was  overliauIe<L^ 
Brunei's  forgery  passed  master,  and  he  was  allnwcd  to  proceedifl 
He  Jandrd  at  New  York  in  safety  on  the  6th  September,  17'J3. 

Sup)iift  ICIn^om,  whom  he  wtis  forced  tu  leave  behind,  was 
not   so    fortunate.      When   it   liceame    known   that  England  bad 
enteref]    into  a  coalition  with  the    continental    powers,   English 
subjects  on  French  soil,  nf  all  ages  an<l  of  both  sejtt^s,  were  at  once 
seized  and  imprisoned.    Miss  Kingdom,  as  the  inmate  of  a  Royalist^ 
familv,  was  doubly  obnoxious  to  the  Revolutionary  autboritic^JH 
and  she  was  amou^  the  first  captires.     But  as  the  onlinarv  gnnts 
were  alremly  filled  to  overflowing,  a  convent  was  appiopriat»--it  to 
receive  the  overplus ;   and  thither  she  wa^^  sent  with  many  other 
prisoners,  French  and  P^nglish.    She  lay  confine<l  there  for  nearly 
eight  montlis,  enduring  much  suffering  and  pri'vation.    Her  bed 
was  of  boards,  with  a  billet  of  woofl  for  a  pillow ;  her  principol 
food  was  coarse   black   bread,  mixed  with  straw;  and   iier  con- 
dition, especially  during  the  early  part  of  her  conftnemrnt,  was 
miserable  in  the  extreme.     The  s>-mput1iy  of  her  companions 
wat  her  only  relief;  and  the  gaoler's  wife,  taking  pity  on  the 
friendless  English  girl,c«mt]'ibutetl,  with  the  kind  help  of  the  nucH^ 
who  were  pennitt«l  to  visit  the  prison,  to  render  her  captivit^f 
h'iis  intolerable  than  it  otherwise  must  have  liecn.      Often  tlurin^^ 
her  imprisonment  did   she  hear  the    death-roll    call«l,   ami    see 
roni))inions  whom  shf!  bad  lenrnt  to  love  home  off  to  the  guillo- 
tine, UJ'.til,  hojie  having  l>i«rome  extinct,  she  became  almost  weary 
of  life,  -.nd  longed  for  the  release  of  death.     But  the  Reign  of 
Terror  dri-w  to  an  emi ;  and  one  morning  in  July,  171(4,  to  the 
surprise  ol  flie  prisoners,  the  ctmrent  doors  were  thniwn  open, 
ami    they    wer.-?    declared    fn*e    to    depart   wbe-Tcver   they   would. 
Obtaining  a  j)a^|)ort,  Sophia  Kingdom  in  a  few  weeks  atYer  took 
her  leave  of  Rouen,  and  retume<l  to  her  friends  in  England,  wfa^H 
luul  abrendy  given  her  up  for  lost.  ^1 

We  return  to  the  history  of  Brunei   himself,  with  whom  she 


] 


The  Brunei, 


was  crentually  to  be  united.  After  a  short  «t»y  in  New  York, 
siruitcoed  in  means,  lie  contrived,  to  make  his  way  to  Albany, 
whrre  two  of  his  feIIow-|Kissenf»ers  by  ^c  American  ship  liad 
pr<K-p<'<lfil,  for  the  purpose  of  oi^nnizin^  on  the  j»art  ot  a  I'rcnch 
Cuitipanv  thr  survey  of  a  large  tract  of  land  along  the  nxiriie 
of  tliv  HKir-k  Kivpr,  near  Lake  Ontario.  Brunei's  srrvicre  wi-ra 
acceptefl  an  assifltant-mirveyor,  iiml,  accompanied  by  four  Indi.'mB, 
ibc  three  I'Vcnchmen  proceeded,  upon  their  arduous  but  interest- 
ing expeilition.  The  country  was  wild  and  uncleared,  and  thH 
only  inhabitants  Brunei  enconntered  during  the  sur^'ey  wero 
Indinnft,  by  some  of  whom  he  was  long  rememlH-rtMl.  In  the 
iut«rva]fl  of  his  hilmtirs  lie  maile  iNrcnsiimal  visits  Ut  New  York, 
and  it  was  there  that  the  plan  of  his  block -machinery  first 
ciecurre*!  to  him.  He  carried  the  idea  back  with  him  inti»  the 
woo<l»,  where  it  otitcn  mingled  with  his  thoughts  of  Sophia  King- 
dom far  off  in  F.nglnnd.  *  My  first  tiiought  of  the  bhick- 
inachiiUTy, '  lie  once  said,  '  was  at  n  dinner-])arty  at  Major-Gene- 
ral  ILimtlton's  in  New  \ork;  my  second,  under  an  Americanl 
tree,  when,  one  day  that  1  was  carving  letters  on  its  bark,  the] 
torn  of  one  of  them  reminded  me  of  it,  ami  I  thought,  "Ah!. 
my  block!  so  it  must  be!*'  And  what,  do  you  tliink,  wen;  the 
Of  course  nnne  nther  llian  S,  K.  I* 
lu-.ird  of  Miss  Kingdom's  eseajMr  from 
prison,  and  wrote  to  her  in  liingland,  ench)8ing  a  bright  Itttic 
autograph  miniature  of  himsell  —  for,  amongst  his  various  ac- 
compli iih  in  cnts,  he  was  an  excellent  miniature-[)o inter — which' 
she  lovingly  pri-'!ier\«!.  Thus,  it  wilt  be  seen,  a  jiowerfiilJ 
maguet  was  at  work,  dinnrting  his  tlioughts  to  England,  andj 
blowly  dmwing  him  thither,  fiut  his  means  were  as  yet  ex- 
tremely limited,  and  some  time  must  necessarily  elapse  before  be 
ccald  depart  from  the  American  shores.  He  even  seems  to  bare 
had  beJ'ore  him  the  prospect  of  certain  success  in  America,  if  he 
coulil  have  freed  himself  from  the  afTeetion  which  governed  him. 
Among  his  labours  in  the  Uniti'd  States  may  be  mentioned  his 
survey  of  a  canal  piojcctcfl  to  unite  the  Hudson  with  Lake 
Champlain.  He  also  promulg.tte<l  I'arious  plans  for  Improving 
the  navigation  of  rivers,  and  freeing  their  channels  from  rocks 
and  imbeddci!  trees.  He  d<'stgni'd  seveml  public  buildings,  one 
of  his  most  ambitious  plans  being  that  fur  the  Cupitol  at  Wash- 
ington, which  was  reji'Cted  as  ttto  costlv.  He  was  more  successful 
with  his  design  of  the  Park  Theatre  at  New  York,  which  was 
accepted,  and  the  hnilding  was  erected,  Brunei  afterwards  lend- 
ing his  aid  in  contriving  some  of  the  scenic  arrangements  of  the 
hoose.  He  was  next  appointctt  chief  engineer  for  the  city  of 
New  York,  in  which  capacity  he  superintended  the  erection  of  a 

canauii 


letters  I  was  (fitting  ? 
By  this  time  he  had 


cannon  fuondry,  where  be  Introduced  many  novel  and  ingenious 
contrivances  for  ca&titig  and  boring  guns.  He  alsi*  supnlicU 
ilcsigna  lor  improving  the  fortifications  of  the  barbcmr  of  \cw 
York,  liy  ihc  erec-tion  of  works  at  Statea  Island  and  Long  Uland. 
It  iis,  lunvevcr^  stated  hy  his  biographer  that  Brunei  was  not  vcrj* 
liberalK*  paid  for  his  work;  and  he  accordingly  felt  but  little 
Inducement  to  remain  in  the  country,  ile  finally  left  \cw  \<>rk 
in  January,  179^,  and  landed  at  Falmoutli  in  the  following 
March.  There  he  again  tnct  Sophia  Kingdom,  wh(>  had  remained 
faithful  to  him  during  his  aix  long  ycai's  of  cxUc;  and  the  pair 
were  shortly  after  united  for  life. 

Some  might  consider  marriage,  under  the  circumstances,  to 
have  been  a  bf>ld,  perhajjs  an  imprudent  step;  for  neither  po»- 
sessotl  any  groat  store  of  means  for  future  hou&ekeepiug.  Both, 
however,  had  full  faith  in  each  other,  whiUt  Bruuel  had  in  him 
plenty  of  inventive  industrv',  and  boundless  capacity  for  work. 
Indccfl  he  ha«l  brought  many  of  his  inventions  to  England  with 
him,  which  he  proceeihtd  to  bring  out.  The  first  was  for  a  dupli- 
cate writing  and  drawing  machine,  which  he  |mtcntcd.  The  nest 
was  a  marhine  for  twisting  cotton  thread  and  forming  it  into 
hails  ;  but  neglecting  to  protect  this  by  a  palent^ — perlia|)s  unable 
to  romniand  tlit;  rmiiiKite  means  of  doing  »o — Brunei  di-rivcd  no 
benefit  from  the  Invc-ntion,  lluiugh  It  was  generally  :ulopte<l  by 
the  thread  manufacturers.  His  next  patent  w.is  of  a  maclune  for 
'trimmings  and  borders  for  muslins,  lawns,  and  cambrics,*  which 
originated  iu  the  suggestion  of  a  lady  friend  that  he  should 
invent  a  means  of  relieving  scamstreBS/'S  from  the  wc«ris«>miT  em- 
ployment of  hrmming  and  stitdiing.  Titis  "machine,  howt-ver,  did 
not  romr  into  ustr  ;  and  it  has  lirfii  tbrown  into  the  sliadu  by 
the  numerous  eewtiig-inachines  which  liavc  recently  been  invented. 
The  contrivance  of  such  a  process  b}*  Brunei,  however,  at  so  early 
a  period  aflbrds  an  indication  of  his  readiness  to  turn  his  inven- 
tive faculty  to  account  in  any  direction  tlint  pn^smitetl  itself. 
Another  of  his  contrivaucvs,  Ingenious  though  ufii-li;ss,  was  a 
:nachimr  to  enable  fccble-liandeil  canl-ptavt^'s  to  shuHIe  a  |iack 
of  cards  by  merely  putting  them  Into  a  box.  and  turning  a 
handle. 

His  famous  block-machinery  formed  the  subject  of  his  next 
patent,  and  thi;  result  was  of  a  more  useful  and  profitable  cha- 
racter. The  number  of  blocks  or  pulleys  cm]iloyed  in  tlic  rigging 
of  ships,  for  the  purpose  of  raising  and  lowering  the  sails,  masts, 
and  vards,  was  then  so  great,  that  they  formed  the  subject  of  an 
important  branch  oi  manufacture.  An  idea  may  be  formed  of  the 
numl>er  required  fur  the  Royal  navy  alone,  from  the  fact  that  a 
ship  of  74  guns  rLi|uirefl  to  be  provided  with  no  fewer  than  1400 

hlocka 


I 


\ 


I 


The  BruneU.  9 

blocks  of  various  sizes.  The  sheaved  blocks  used  for  the  running 
rigging  consisted  of  the  shell,  within  which  one  or  more  sheaves 
revolved,  and  the  pins  which  fastened  the  sheaves  to  the  shell. 
The  fabrication  of  these  articles,  though  apparently  simple,  was 
in  reality  attended  with  much  difficulty.  Every  part  had  to  be 
fashioned  with  great  accuracy  and  precision  to  ensure  the  easy 
working  of  the  block  when  put  together,  as  any  hitch  in  the 
process  of  raising  or  lowering  the  sails  might,  on  certain 
emergencies,  lead  to  the  most  serious  disaster.  Indeed,  it  be- 
came clear  that  hand-work  was  not  to  be  relied  on  in  manufac- 
turing these  articles,  and  efforts  were  early  made  to  produce  them 
by  means  of  mechanism  of  the  most  perfect  kind  that  could  be 
devised.  In  1781  Mr.  Taylor,  of  Southampton,  set  up  a 
large  establishment  on  the  river  Itchen  for  their  manufacture, 
after  a  patent  of  his  own ;  and  on  the  expiry  of  his  contract  the 
Government  determined  to  establish  works  of  their  own  in 
Portsmouth  Dockyard,  for  the  purpose  at  the  same  time  of  se- 
curing greater  economy  and  of  being  independent  of  individual 
makers  in  the  supply  of  an  article  of  such  importance  in  the 
equipment  of  ships. 

The  circumstance  of  Mrs.  Brunei's  brother  being  Under- 
Secretary  to  the  Navy  Board,  probably  led  Brunei  in  the  first 
place  to  make  offer  of  his  invention  to  the  Admiralty.  We  have 
seen  that  the  subject  had  occupied  his  attention  while  in  America ; 
but  much  remained  to  be  done  before  his  plans  could  be  carried 
into  practical  effect  He  had  the  idea  formed  in  his  mind  of 
how  the  thing  was  to  be  done ;  but  there  is  usually  a  wide  interval 
between  the  first  conception  of  an  invention  and  its  practical 
realisation.  Brunei,  though  possessing  a  good  knowledge  of  me- 
chanism, and  capable  of  mastering  the  intricacies  of  any  machine, 
was  not  himself  a  practical  mechanic ;  and  it  is  probable 
that,  but  for  the  help  of  one  possessing  this  qualification,  his 
invention  would  have  borne  no  practical  fruits.  At  this  stage 
he  was  so  fortunate  as  to  be  inti'oduced  to  the  late  Henry 
Maudslay,  inventor  of  the  slide-rest,  by  which  the  whole 
conditions  of  practical  mechanism  have  in  our  time  become 
completely  revolutionised.  Maudslay  then  carried  on  his  works 
in  Margaret- street.  Cavendish-square,  where  Brunei  first  called 
npon  him.  He  brought  first  a  drawing  of  one  little  piece 
of  the  proposed  machine,  and  then  another,  until  at  the  third 
visit  Maudslay  exclaimed,  on  looking  at  the  drawing,  *  Ah ! 
I  see  what  you  are  thinking  of;  you  want  machinery  for 
making  blocks.'  At  this  Brunei  became  more  communicative, 
and   explained   his  intentions  to  the  mechanic,  who  proceeded 

to 


to  work  out  the  inventor's  conceptions  and  embody  them  in  n 
practical  mnchintr. 

In  laOl  Brunei  liml  his  working-  model  readv  for  insp(*tiim  l)y 
the  Lords  (if  thf  Admiralty,  and  the  whole  subjert  was  w;fiTr«l 
for  intjuiry  and  n^port  to  Siv  tianiuel  IJt-ntUam,  who  then  filled 
tlie  ofiice  of  Iu5pector-Ueneral  of  Naval  Works.  Hit  8iunucl 
had  liiniseU  applied  bis  mind  lor  many  years  to  the  invention 
of  tnacbincry  for  working  in  wood — such  as  sa wing-machines, 
planing-machim^^,  and  also  block-making  machines.  Ilius  the 
sjKHiifiratiun  of  <mc  of  his  jKit^nt-K,  taken  out  in  1793,  clearly 
deMTibt-s  a  mnchine  for  shnpin;;  t\w  shells  of  the  lilucks,  in  a 
manner  similar  to  that  afterwards  ipecifieil  hv  Brnnel.*  Beiitham 
bad  even  proceeded  with  the  erection  of  a  biiildinp  for  tlic  pur- 
pose of  makiii|r  blocks  at  Portsmouth,  the  necessary  steani-cu- 
^ine  1}ein^  alnradv  providnl ;  but  on  Brunei's  uiiKlel  bein^^  aliowii 
bim,  with  a  sluf^ul.ir  th-^p-i-*!  of  canilitur  and  fjem-n>sity  he  at  once 
admitted  its  8U|K-rioritv  niul  promised  to  recommend  its  a(h>ptton 
by  the  Admiralty.  This  he  accordingly  diiL,  and  Brunei  was 
autlioriscd  to  prorf-wl  with  the  construction  of  die  requisite  uia- 
chinery.  This  <M-ciijiied  nearly  six  years,  and  the  manufacture 
uf  blocks  by  thc^  new  prourss  bej^nn  in  September,  1HU8.  It  was 
a  long  time  for  Brunei  to  u'uit  for  his  rt;waril,  aial  he  was  put  to 
much  expense  in  tlie  interval.  The  result  id'  Uu;  iinpioved  ma- 
chinery was,  however,  very  siitisfactory.  The  blocks  were  better 
made,  supplied  witli  much  j^rearcr  rapi«iitv,  and  exrculed  at  a 
^^rratly  reduced  cost.  It  was  found  that  ten  men,  by  the  new 
mnehinery,  L*ou1d  |)erftirm  the  work  which  before  batl  ntjuirctl 
a  hundred  and  ten  men  tn  exe<rutt.  and  that  it  could  turn  nut  in  a 
year  not  fewer  than  160,000  blocks  of  various  kinds  and  sizes, 
worth  54,000/. 

The  remunenitinn  lo  be  paid  to  Brunei  was  also  referred  to 
Sir  Samuel  Hentliaui,  who  mlvi<ie<)  dmt  tlie  Knvinffs  of  only  one 
year's  manufacture  should  be  |»aid  him  ;  and,  after  ciireful  inquiry, 
the  amount  calcuiateil  on  tliis  basis  was  17,(iG3/.  Bentham  himself 
tcstifictl  to  tbc  honesty  of  the  accounts  rendered  by  Brunei,  as 
appears  by  the  foilowinf;  passage  in  his  journal  of  Uie  liith  March, 
1810  ; — '  At  work  all  dav  on  Brunei's  accounts ;  find  that  he;  hav 
made  llu>m  out  with  every  appenmnce  of  the  fairest,  most  honour- 
able intentions ;  iie  has  pven  lumping  sums  tujainst  himself,  hut 
has  taken  no  advantage  without  stating  \K.'\    The  amount  awarded 

•  II  itt  Xtvk  tbc  Wwk-macliiijerjr  u  erecieil  does  aot  correspond  with  that 
described  in  S^uthsui's  •pvcificalion ;  but  neither  docs  it  rvKomblv  tlint  dcacribcil 
ia  Bninert  i  ami  ihis  iJiows  how  mncb  Draatl  owed  tti  MaudiUy  iu  cnrrying  his 
designs  intA  pnctical  ezcetitiuu. 

t  *  Ufe  of  tiiir  BaiDuel  Ucnthtni.'    Bj  hb  Widow.    1BC2. 

was 


d 


77«  Brttwif. 


11 


ITU  paid  to  Brunei  .it  different  times,  nml  in  addition  a  ^^nt  of 
SOilO/.  was  afterwards  iiiimIc  by  the  Goyernmcnt  to  the  enjjinccr 
nt  n  ]ieri(Ml  when  he  was  Inbourinff  under  serious  pecuninry  diffi- 
culties. But  as  the  annual  saving  tii  the  nnlinn  Iiy  the  ad()i>- 
t'ttm  ui  tlie  block-innkin^  mnrhinery  continued  to  incieotic,  »nd 
exceetled  in  enrh  year  the  wliole  amount  paid  to  hint,  the  reward 
must  be  ref^rde<l  as  altogether  inadequate  to  the  ralue  of 
Brunei's  ser\-iccs  in  perfecting  bis  invention  and  placing  it  at  the 
■nricf  of  the  nation. 

During  the  time  that  the  block-marliinerv  woa  in  progress, 
Brunei  was  busy  with  various  other  schemes,  in  the  midst  of 
which  his  only  son  was  bom  at  Portsmouth  on  the  9th  of  April, 
lttl)6.  The  father  continued  to  direct  his  attention  principally 
Id  wood-working  machinery,  taking  out  patents  for  sawing  tim- 
ber, for  cutting  veneers,  and  for  other  improvements  in  saw-mills. 
He  5uppli(Hl  ihe  Ciovemment  with  designs  for  n  saw-mill  for 
the  Ordnjuire  department  at  Wixilwich.  and  afterwards  pinnueil 
and  suptTJmended  the  erection  of  the  extensive  machinery 
for  sawing  and  dressing  timber  in  the  ship-building  yard  at 
Chatham.  Besides  designing,  works  for  others,  he  alsii  dr- 
BtgnEHl  them  for  liimBelf,  nnd  diverged  from  the  business  itf  ati 
engiiwer  to  enter  on  that  of  a  manufartiirer.  He*  Ktartr-d  two 
cniiri-rns  nlM)iit  this  timi; — one  an  establishment  for  mannfac- 
turing  shoes  hv  machiner;'.  and  another  for  sawing  timber  on 
a  large  scale ;  but  both  proved  unfortunate  :  for  it  must  ite  con- 
fesseti  that,  with  all  liis  cleverness,  Brunei  did  not  possess  the 
cnmmerrial  faculty.  Inventors  are  nut  always  the  t»est  manu- 
facturers, and  it  is  |K)sstblr  that  their  verv  inventivciH'SS  may 
stand  in  tlie  way  of  their  exercising  that  plodding  application 
and  persistency  which  are  so  necessary  to  success  in  business ; 
just  as  the  thorough-bred  steed  is  found  to  draw  n  loaded 
waggon  far  less  efcctively  than  the  humble  but  hard-working 
cart-horacf. 

Brutu-I's  biographer  alleges  that  ho  invented  his  boot  and  shoe 
macliine  from  a  iKitriotic  motive,  namely,  to  supply  our  soldiers 
^Vith  those  articles  '  independent  of  the  shoemaker's  wax  an<l 
ircad,  and  the  ciJntractor's  cupidity  and  knavery.'  However 
tills  may  have  hern,  Brunei  tried  hard  to  secun*  a  large  Govern- 
ment contract  for  his  Ijoots  and  shoes.  He  took  care,  in  the  first 
place,  to  scenire  a  patent  for  tlic  machinery,  by  means  of  which 
the  upper  leathers  were  to  be  fastened  to  the  soles  by  *  metallic 
pins  or  nails.'  The  machinery  was,  no  doubt,  very  ingenious ; 
but,  notwithstanding  Mr.  Beamisb's  .isst-rtion  that  '  the  sujieri- 
urity  of  till-  slkws,  as  regnnhnl  dumbiUty,  finish,  and  cheapness, 
□nesampled,'    we     must    take    leave    to    express    a    doubt 

whether 


12  W  Tlie  BrumU. 

whether  they  were  at  all  equal  to  shoes  made  in  ihn  onlinary 
manner.  If  they  had  been  really  sujierior,  no  (loverument 
oi>]X)5ttii)n  cnulil  possilily  have  prevented  a  frrncral  demand 
for  the  article.  Mr.  Ucamish  says,  '  A  larfje  order  was  issued 
by  tlic  Govermncnt,  nhirh  was  completctl  witliiii  the  time 
btijmlated  ;  hut  unfortunately  for  Brunei,  when  everything-  was 
in  full  artivity,  nnd  the  M'orkmen  had  heroine  familiar  with  their 
work,  the  war  had  come  to  an  untookcd-for  termination  ;  the 
GoTcrnmeDt  no  lonf^r  required  the  aid  of  the  shoe-machinery; 
while  Rrune),  relying:  too  implicity  on  the  moml  obligation  by 
whicli  he  believed  the  fiovcminent  to  lie  Ixiiiiul,  cuutiiiued  to 
incur  the  hiuivy  IJahilities  cuanoirted  with  a  ituum factory  in  full 
ujieratton.  The  conaecpiences  were  seriiius.  A  large  stock  of 
shoes,  for  which  there  rould  be  no  demand,  was  accumulated, 
nml  financinl  diflicullics  arose  from  which  Brunei  was  unable  to 
cniancipnte  himself.' 

It  is  always  easy  for  (iver-snng:uine  pmjectors  to  lay  the  blame 
on  Government.  It  is  clejir  that  tlut  Goveniment,  in  tliis  rase, 
were  under  no  moral  or  other  ohlifrations  to  take  shoes  which 
they  did  not  need.  Ic  is  admittctl  that  the  order  actually  given 
was  eoniulete<l,  and  that  die  shoes  delivered  tu  order  were  paid 
for,  ami  Brunei's  busiue&i  was  either  to  loiik  fur  a  market  clse- 
wheit:  for  bis  sujierior  shoes,  or  to  slop  their  produetion.  If  he 
went  nu  manufacturing  shoes  which  jioUkIv  would  buy,  that  was 
his  own  fault,  and  not  the  fault  of  '  the  Government'  Rut  the 
shoes  were  probably  inferior  to  hand-made  shoes,  otherwise  they 
would  have  driven  the  hitter  out  of  the  market.  Brunei's  |Hitcnt 
lias  lon^  since  expired,  and  his  invention  is  now  free  to  any 
capitalist  who  may  chouse  to  take  it  up.  But  it  is  known  to 
have  bet;n  a  failure  ;  and  other  shoemakin^  machines  which 
have  bei^n  invented  as  improvements  upon  it  have  failed  like 
it.  The  last  speculation  of  the  kind  was  wound  up  but  the 
other  day  in  the  Court  of  Bnnkruptcy. 

'Hie  Battersea  Saw-Mills  were  started  in  1808,  and  in  the 
hands  of  an  cnerjjptie  man  of  business  would  probably  hare 
succeeded.  But  Brunei  left  the  pecuniary  arrangements  to 
partners  incompetent  to  manage  them,  and  Ae  concern  fell  into 
inextricable  confusion.  The  calamities  of  the  linn  were  brought 
to  a  climax  bv  a  fire  whirh  broke  out  upon  the  premises  in 
1314,  and  destroyed  the  f;reater  part  in  two  hours.  Only  the 
rijrht  \\m\i  of  the  building,  nrntaininf;  the  &team-cn^inc,  was 
saved.  Brunei  immctiiately  sought  for  means  to  repair  the  loss, 
and  the  premlsi^s  were  partly  rebuilt ;  but  his  capital  had  been 
destroyed,  and  he  liad  Ix^sidcs  incurred  heavy  debts.  He  sub- 
mitted his  idToirs  to  a  City  liankerj  who  pronounced  the  arcimnts 

priT^Nired 


I 


The  BnmA. 


IS 


prcpnred  for  him  to  be  '  a  most  cxtraonliimrv  jumble.'  It  appeaml 
thnt  Bninttl  hiul  been  in  the  practice  of  allowing  a  discount  of 
20  ppr  cent  on  the  prices  of  llie  work  »lone  at  Battt-rsea, — a  cir- 
cumstance which  the  banker  held  to  be  a  striking  prttof  of  the 
great  depreciatioQ  in  tbc  cretUt  of  the  roncem.  Mr.  Brunei  next 
resorted  to  the  lawyers,  whu  appearwl  only  to  inci-cnse  his  cm-' 
harrassmrnts.  His  City  friend  wrote  to  him,  *  If  von  have  e%'er 
been  ill  in  your  life,  and  depended  on  medical  advice,  fall  down 
air  your  knees,  and  bless  God  that  jou  had  fewer  doctors  than 
you  had  lawyers  about  you.  If  that  had  not  been  the  case,  you 
might  have  l>Pen  making  sawmills  on  tlic  other  side  of  tlic  Slys, 
or  inventing  a  sUrambnat  for  nld  Charon.' 

Tlie  crisis  in  BrunL-l's  alTaiis  was  rhwe  at  hand;  in  May,  IR^l^ 
be  was  imprisoned  for  debt.  Writing  from  the  King's  Bench 
Prison  in  July  to  bis  friend  Lord  l^pcnccr,  he  said,  *  1  have  now 
been  in  this  distressed  situation  ten  weeks.  1  summoned  ns  much 
fortitude  as  jKKtsilile  to  support  the  mittrortune,  hut  I  find  I  can 
mi  longer  ln'ar  up  against  what  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  miut 
appear  a  disgrace.'  An  appeal  was  maiK;  lothe  (lovemmcnt  un  Ills 
l)rhair,  and  a  prant  of  SOOO/.  was  nia<le  to  him,  in  consideration 
principallv  ol  the  savings  which  ctmtinued  to  be  effected  by  ihe 
uso  of  bhi  btuck-machinery.  Hr  was  thus  enabled,  soon  after  he  had 
written  U>  Lord  Sprncer,  to  return  to  the  exercise  of  liis  calling. 

Tlie  numenms  luvi-ntions  whieh  Briint-l  mntinurtl  to  make 
and  to  patent,  afford  abundant  eviilenee  of  his  ingenuity  and 
his  industry.  Indeed,  invention  seems  to  have  heen  thr  normal 
state  of  his  mind  ;  it  embraced  a  rery  wide  field,  takini;'  in 
such  different  subjects  as  stocking-knitting  machines  and  steani- 
vngines,  mctBllic  paper,  stiTreotypp  printing,  and  the  treadmil 
Id  ISft  be  patented  a  tiicoteur  or  knitting-machine,  by  whici 
tlie  whole  of  a  stocking  could  hi*  ma^le  in  one  piece,  but  it  never 
came  int<»  use.  Another  of  his  inventions  was  crystollizc<l  tin- 
foil, wliich  wns  extensively  used  some  thirty  years  since,  for 
omrunenting  teacaddies,  urns,  lamps^  and  such  like.  BnmpI, 
however,  derived  little  advantage  from  it,  as  the  Invention  was 
extensively  pirated ;  and  while  the  jilvates  actively  pushed  the 
sale  ol'  their  gootls,  Brunei's  firm  was  contented  to  wait  for 
customers,  who  did  not  come.  He  also  devoted  much  study  to 
tlie  lmprt>vpmenl  of  steri"Otyj»e  plates;  hut  other  inventors  shot 
■bead  of  him  in  this  uit,  and  it  does  not  appear  tliat  he  did 
more  In  this  line  than  secure  an  unprtKluclive  |)atent. 

In  the  department  of  engineering  he  was  alike  busy.      He 
designed  a  bridge  over  the  Seine  at  Rouen,  but,  after  long  nogo- 
tiation,  it  was  declined.     He  furnished  an  ingenious  design  of] 
a  bridge  over  the  Neva  at  St.  Pctersljuigb,  which  was  mucb^ 

admired ; , 


I 


admired ;  but  the  Crar  desired  it  to  be  communicated  to  the 
engineer  that  circumslances  did  nnt  favour  tliP  rxecution  of  his 
pniifct,  and  that  under  the  pressure  of  unforeseen  and  %'cry  con-    _ 
siderablc  expenditure  the  imperial  trca«ury  could  not  commit  itself  ■ 
to  so  costly  an  enterprise.     He  was  more  fortunate  in  his  desifrns 
of  two  suspension  bridges  proposed  to  be  erected  in  the  Isle  of 
Bourbon,  which  were  accepted  by  the  French  Government.     The 
bridges  were  constructed  in  this  country,  but  their  cost  when  rnm- 
plcted — owing,  It  is  nllegcd,  to  the  misconduct  of  tbn  aintractors 
— greatly  exceeded  tlu-  original  estimate  :  his  biographer  adds    _ 
that  '  the  same  htality  which  had  already  marred  Brunei's  com-   I 
mercial  prosperity  was  still  found  Ut  cling  to  him.'     In  addition 
to    these    designs    be  gupplicil    plans    of   swing-bridges  at    the 
Livur|MXi[  ndclis  and  uf  a  landing-stage  ut  tiir  same  place,  thn 
design  of  a  siiS}H*n&i cut-bridge  ovct  the  Serpentine,  sundry  im- 
provements in  the  treadmill,  and  plans  of  machines  for  boring 
cannon  at  Amsterdam. 

Like  most  inventors  of  his  time,  Brunei  engaged  eagerly 
in  projects  for  the  iinpruvement  of  motive  power.  As  enrlv 
as  L8ltt  be  tiKfk  out  a  jMittmt  willi  this  ubject,  proposing  to 
employ  the  inclined  hollow  srrew  for  the  purpose  of  forcing 
atmospheric  air  into  a  vessel  oS  cold  water,  from  which  it  was  to 
escape  into  an  inverted  funnel,  thence  to  be  conveyed  through  a 

Cipe  to  another  vessel  containing  hot  water.  In  this  vend  a 
ucket-whml  wjis  to  revolve ;  tlie  air,  conducted  through  the 
pijH-  and  rari-fied  in  its  passage  through  tlie  heated  water,  was  to 
asceml  beneath  the  buckets,  and  by  its  buoyancy  gi^f  motion  lo 
the  wheel,  as  water  operates  upon  an  ovcrshot-whtfel  in  Uu*  nprn 
air.  But  it  does  ni>t  ap|K.>ar  that  the  invention  was  followed  by 
any  jwactical  result.  Hl-  also  turned  his  attention  to  the  subject 
of  steam  navigation,  and  cxpt-riroented  with  a  buut  on  the 
Thames  fitted  with  a  double-acting  engine,  \Mien  br  mad*;  bis 
first  voyage  wit}i  it  to  Margate,  in  1814,  he  was  threatened  with 
personal  violence  by  those  connected  with  the  sailing-packeta, 
and  the  landlord  of  the  hotel  at  which  he  first  applied  even 
refused  to  provide  him  with  a  bed.  Some  years  later,  in  1822, 
he  took  out  a  patent  for  improvements  in  marine  engines  and  in 
|Kiddle-w heels  :  but  another  scheme,  which  intei-c&teil  him  more 
tlian  all,  was  the  substitution  of  gas  for  steam  in  the  produition 
of  motive  power.  Science  had  no  sooner  made  a  discovery  than 
Brunei  followed  it  up  by  an  invention  ;  and  when  the  result 
of  Mr.  Faraday's  experiments  upon  the  liquefaction  of  )fnscs  was 
communicati^d  to  the  Koyal  Society  in  1823,  our  engineer  im- 
mciltately  proceeded  to  patent  hi.<t  invention  of  a  carbonic  acid 
gatf-engine.     It  had  been  established  by  the  experiments  referretl 


1 


77ie  lirtauit. 


16 


to,  Uiat  this  gas,  when  mlucnl  to  tlic  liquoiifd  state,  cnulil  again 
\ie  vap<iri»'(l,  ami  an  intouiK?  pmxuro  pr(Mluci>d  liy  Uic  expriuH- 
ture  ol'  a  vciy  small  amount  uf  liL-at.  It  tiierffore  occurred  to 
Brunei  that,  by  the  luo  uf  this  li(|ucfied  gas,  pent  up  within  an 
ingrniotisly  contrlvcvl  appnrnttis,  n  very  powerful  cnfTine  might 
hv-  priHlnred.  If  llir  gas  cuulil  Iio  litpic^fiet]  and  vitjiuriw^d 
shcriiiitpiv  in  tliL'  working  o(  \hc  uiachtno,  it  was  Hr{;it<il  thnt  the 
new  [lowor  wuuUl  be  so  cheap  as  complelclv  In  BU[«TswhT  tho 
use  of  co;d,  water,  and  steam  in  the  production  of  motive  power. 
TbL*  most  sanguine  anticipations  were  cotertained  as  to  the 
results;  but,  as  Brunei  himself  once  said  of  another  person's  in- 
rcntina,  'Ah I  my  friend,  it  is  very  easy  to  invtrnt  a  machine, 
but  it  is  not  so  cisv  to  make  it  tPorU!''  The  Adniirultv  I'von 
went  so  far  as  to  advance  Itninct  200/.  to  aid  iiim  in  uovkiiig 
out  his  machine  bv  the  process  of  experiment.  Orders  for 
the  engines  were  obtained  from  abroad,  and  the  public  waited 
atixitrusly  for  the  advent  of  the  new  power.  But  in  vain,  .'\ltcr 
Dxi^rtinii^  his  ingenuity  for  many  years  in  trying  to  overeomo  ihu 
BUK^nical  ditHcultics  of  the  problem,  it  was  discovered  that, 
tSier  all,  water  was  cheaper  than  sulphuric  acid  and  carbonate 
of  ammonia  ;  that  steam  was  a  more  manageable  power  than 
carbonic  acid  gas;  and  thus  'the  beautiful  theory  which  had 
^ven  so  much  promise,  and  been  hailed  as  the  harbinger  of  a 
Tiew  rrn  in  prartical  mechanies,  was  found  inca|Mible  uf  realizing 
thoMt  economic  conditions  bv  which  alone  it  could  be  rendereil 
eommerriallv  \aliiable.' 

The  last  grand  scheme  of  our  eng'ineer,  and,  indeed,  the 
crowning  event  of  his  life,  though  it  afforded  ample  te«tim<»ny  to 
his  skill  as  an  iinguicer,  was  alike  unfortunate  in  its  commercial 
nrsnits.  We  allude  to  dmt  extraordinary  enterprise,  the  excava- 
tion and  cmutruction  of  the  Thames  Tunnel.  'I'he  connexion  of 
the  counties,  of  Kent  aud  IlUsex  by  means  of  a  roadway  l)cneath 
the  l>ed  of  the  Tbamot  had  long  formed  the  subject  of  spernla- 
tjffli  among  projectors,  just  as  the  formation  of  a  railway  tunnel 
angler  the  Straits  of  Dover  does  now.  In  179S  George  D<Khl 
pr^jectefl  a  tunnel  under  the  river  between  (iraveseml  and  Til- 
DDnTf  the  estimated  roit  of  which  was  set  at  so  low  a  figure  as 
16,000/.,  but  nobody  seems  to  have  believed  Dodd,  and  his 
project  fell  to  tho  ground.  This  Dodd  was  one  of  the  must 
tn^'nions  Init  unfortunate  projectors  of  his  day.  He  was  the 
finrt  tn  inlrtMluce  steam  navigation  nn  the  Tlmmes.  He  had  a 
Tn*nl  Rxj)rr!5sly  hililt  and  titUnl  nn  the  Clyde  for  the  jiurjMjse, 
ami  bniug'ht  nmml  to  l^indon  bv  si>a.  Hf!  was  the  first  cng^i- 
neer  of  Waterloo  Bridge,  though  he  was  superseded  in  that  office 
hy  John   Ronnie.      Amidst  his  projects   ]\c   took    to  drinkingr* 

I>t!fame 


bemmc>  embnirassed  in  hii  circuuistanccg,  nnct  iras  thrust  br 
lamllonl  into  tin-  strcift.  He  was  cvemuiiUy  brouirIU  Ix-fore  the 
Lord  MnVfJT  as  n  vngnuit,  iind  requested  a*  a  farnur  to  be  alloM-eil 
t()  stay  ill  Giltsnur-street  Compter,  wliere  he  died. 

TliP  subject  o(  a.  tunnel  under  the  Thames  vras  taiten  up  sad 
prosecute<)  by  another  enjurinecr  still  vaovo  inffcnious,  and  equally 
unfortunate  in  his  cn<I — we  mean  TrcvetUick,  the  inventor  of 
the  IiKomotivc  and  high-pressuie  steam-ongine.  A  Tunnel 
Ccimpany  was  formed  in  18<.t2.  for  the  purpose  of  excavating  an 
underground  toad  between  Kotherhithe  and  Limchouse,  Mr. 
Vazie  bping  the  projector,  and  Mr.  Trovcthirk  the  enEineer. 
Severn!  vears  passed  before  the  works  wore  begun ;  but  in  ltM-)7 
the  driftway  was  driven  under  the  bed  of  the  river  for  a  distance 
of  GfiS  feel,  when  the  roof  broke  in,  and  the  workmen  were 
'drowned  out.'  Clay  in  bags  was  thrown  into  the  hole,  .ind  the 
leak  was  thus  plugged;  when  tlie  pumpiiig-enginn  was  set  to 
work  tlie  water  wai  cleared  out,  and  die  driftway  proceedwl. 
Another  and  another  deluge  from  the  river  flooded  the  work, 
which  was  at  length  abamlniied  after  165  feet  more  of  tho 
drifting  lind  been  exrnvntir«l,  Tlie  ojiininns  of  scientific  inen 
wen*  now  sought  fur;  and  amongst  others  Dr.  Hutton,  the  innthe- 
uiaticiaii,  and  Mr.  Jessop,  the  engineer,  were  appealed  to.  The 
(^inclusion  tliey  came  to  in  the  matter  is  worthy  of  being  quoted^ 
for  it  has  been  fully  borne  out  by  the  result.  'Though  wo 
cannot  presume,'  they  said,  *  l<i  set  limits  to  the  ingenuity 
nf  (itJier  men,  we  must  confess  that  nnder  the  circumstances, 
which  lia\c  lioen  clearly  represented  to  us,  we  consider  tliat  an 
mulergruuud  ttuiiiel,  w]iicb  would  be  tuir/ui  to  the  jmhttc  and  hene^ 
Jia'al  to  the  adventurers^  is  impracticable.* 

The  subject  was  nevertlieless  revived  in  1816  by  &  Mr. 
HawkinK,  wlio  prumulgateil  n  scheme  for  cicarating  the  tnnneL 
Ilrunid  was  tniinediatety  attracted  ))v  the  novcltv,  as  well  as 
perha)>s  by  the  difficulty  of  the  undertaking,  anri  his  mind 
became  occupied  with  the  methods  by  means  of  which  it  could 
be  carried  into  practical  effect.  While  pondering  tlie  matter  his 
attention  was  one  day  attracted  by  a  piece  of  old  timber  lying;  in 
the  dockyard  at  Chatham,  wliidi  Itad  been  subject  to  the  opera- 
tions of  tliat  great  destroyer  of  subinerfied  tlinlter,  the  Terttio 
vni'ttlif.  On  exnminiug  the  little  inollu::c  he  fuuiHl  its  bend 
armed  with  a  pair  of  strong  shelK-  valves ;  and  that  with  its  prt>> 
boscis  fixed  In  the  wood,  and  acting  as  a  centre-bit,  the  shell 
working  likenn  auger,  it  was  thus  cnablrd  In  bore  its  way  with 
impunity.  The  mechanism  of  this  insignificant  sea-worm  gnve 
Hrunel  bis  first  idea  oi  the  true  method  of  excavating  his  tnnm!l, 
and  to  imitate  its  operations  became  for  some  time  His  chief 

study. 


I 


4 


The  Bruneh. 


17 


study,  la  1B18  he  embodied  the  process  in  his  spccificaUon  nf  a 
patent  for  *  forming  tunnels  or  driftways  uudiTgrouud,*  describing 
a  machine  of  iron  forming  auger-like  cells  for  tlie  miners,  afterwards 
calk'd  ihe  shield.  I  le  proceeiled  to  develop  liis  idt^as  witli  refers 
enec  t"  the  Thames  Tunnel  pntjcct,  and  by  tlic  Ix^irinning-  of  1824 
■A  suHicient  number  of  jHTsons  had  been  intcrestrd  in  the  seheme 
to  form  a  company,  and  it  was  shortly  after  launcheil  before 
Cbc  public.  The  estimated  capital  required  for  the  work  was 
SOOfOOO/.,  and  nearly  the  whole  sum  was  at  once  subscribed. 
Tbc  Act  was  obtained  in  the  ajurse  of  the  same  year,  and 
Mr.  Brunei  was  ap|>uintcd  eng'ineer,  at  a  salary  of  lOCH)/,  a-ycar 
for  three  ycnrs,  with  tlie  prosiwct  of  a  reward  of  10,000/.  whrn 
the  tunmrl  was  completed.  Operations  Mere  begun  early 
in  1826,  by  the  sinking  and  construction  of  a  shaft  50  feet 
in  diameter  and  A'l  feet  high  on  the  Kolhcrhithc  side  of  the 
river. 

Among'  the  many  able  eugineors  who  were  trained  to  difficult 
enterprises  liy  tlie  exj)erience  gained  by  them  in  the  constnictiim 
of  this  fnmiidablc  work,  one  of  the  most  pmminent  was  the  snn 
of  the  cjigincrc  himsi'If,  young  Isarnh'trd  Kingdom  Brunei,  who 
cntcntMi  upon  his  duties  as  assistant  to  his  fatlier  when  oidy  nine- 
teen years  of  age.  At  fourteen  he  had  been  sent  to  the  College  of 
Caen,  in  France ;  and  after  remaining  there  three  years  he  had 
proceeded  to  the  Lyceum  of  Henry  IV.  at  Paris,  where  he  spent 
'two  vpnrs  more.  In  1822  he  presented  himM'lf  for  admisHinn  to 
the  Polytechnic  Schrxil,  hut  was  found  iiielij^ible  !n  consPiiurncc 
of  his  ICngliah  birth.  After  spending  stnnt;  time  longer  in 
France,  enriching  and  storing  his  mind,  he  returned  to  Kngland, 
and  was  immediately  employed  on  the  difficult  work  wliich 
his  fntiier  liad  by  this  time  undertaken. 

After  various  incidents  tlie  shaft  at  Rotherhithe  wns  built  and 
sunk  to  llie  i>njper  d<!pth.  The  pn«ress  employed  was  highly 
ingenious,  llie  shaft,  a  cylinder  of  brlrk,  was  built  c<^>mplete  on 
the  surface,  fitted  at  bottom  with  a  strong  iron  curb,  and  then, 
by  uniformly  excavating  the  ground  underneath,  it  was  slowly  and 

idually  sunk  by  its  own  \\-eight  to  the  n^iuired  depth.  The 
uiist  difliciilt  jMiniif  the  o{K'mti<m  was  then  begun — theilriving  of 
the  tunnel  under  the  \m^\  i»f  tint  rivrr,  huriznntally  fioni  tlirr  tiotlom 
uf  the  sliaft.  This  was  accompli»bed  by  nie:ms  of  the  great 
shield,  for  want  oi  whicli,  or  of  some  similar  machine,  all 
previous  excavations  bad  failctl.  It  will  rea<lily  l)e  understood 
that  the  chief  difllcutty  in  executing  the  work  i-aiisisted,  not  lo 
mucli  in  the  actual  building  of  the  tunnel,  as  in  sup)i«>rtiiig  the 
"giound  on  the  face  of  tlie  (>xeuvation  until  the  p(>rm;ment  brick- 
work could  be  erected.     Tbc  method  by  which  this  difficulty 

VoL  1X2.— No.  223.  c  WW 


I 


W.-18  c)Vurcom(!  bv  tlie  engineer  exlubitcd  hia  inventive  capacity 
in  its  most  strikinf^  light. 

"We  have  atrcadv  stated  tliat  Brunei  iMirrowcd  liis  iilea  of  tlie 
shield  from  the  insignificnnt  teredo  navah's ;  l»ut  it  would  jjerbajw 
\k  mure  correct  to  ix>in|inre  the  instrument  to  a  man,  or  number 
of  mm,  with  It-'jjs,  each  witli  a  knt-e  and  ankle-joint,  alternately 
stepping!:  on  in  advance  of  the  excavation,  with  iirins  to  steady 
the  whole  fabric,  ami  with  a  head  to  support  the  superincumbent 
earth,  ond  raise  or  lower  it  as  circumstances  might  require.  The  ■ 
marhine  was  dividrd  into  twelve  distinct  parts,  each  of  which  " 
was  wnniH-teiil  to  fulfil  eitlier  of  tliese  duties,  tlie  ports  being  so 
arranijod  tliat  they  eould  j>erf<irm  the  offices  alternately,  six  of 
the  divisions  bcinf;^  employwl  in  supporting  the  ground, while 
the  other  six  were  making  their  progreM  forward.  The  external 
dimensions  of  the  shield  were  the  same  aa  those  of  the  tunnel, 
twenty-two  feet  tlirec  inches  in  height  and  thirty-seven  feel  six 
Inches  in  width,  occupying  a  s[»ace  of  alwut  nine  feet  deep  In 
advance  of  die  brick-work.  The  twelve  frames  were  eacli  about 
tlirce  feet  wide,  ranged  side  by  side  like  so  many  volumes  on  the 
shelf  of  a  libniry.  Each  of  these  was  divi<l(xl  again  into  three 
by  strong  iron  bars,  thus  forming  thirty-six  cells  or  boxes,  which 
were  as  separate  as  if  each  had  bc«n  a  distinct  drifting. 

The  area  of  ground  to  be  penetrated  in  front  of  the  shield  was 
BDpported  and  securetl  by  upwards  of  five  hundred  small  hoard* 
termed  polings  pointc<l  with  iron  pUites  and  shod  with  screws 
three  fcrt  in  advance  of  the  work.  These  polings  held  up  a 
surfalY^  of  about  right  hundred  s<juarc  feet,  over  a  large  portitm 
of  which  the  influence  of  die  tide  was  distinctly  felt.  Tlie 
advantage  of  dividing  the  front  of  the  shield  into  small  cells  by 
the  arrangement  above  indicated  was,  thai  the  large'  front  area 
of  ground,  to  secure  which  as  one  surface  wmtid  have  been  im- 
possible^ was  thus  divided  into  ihirty-six  faces,  each  of  small 
area,  which  were  worked  down  an<l  secured  sepnrutciv  by  one  or 
two  men  ;  and  when,  from  unusual  looseness  of  the  ground  in 
any  of  the  rcspflctive  faces,  danger  was  apprehended,  it  was  easy, 
by  introducing  boards  between  the  frames,  to  cut  offcommuni- 
caticmwitli  the  contiguous  cells;  and  if  any  ground  made  its  way 
into  the  Uixes,  then  it  was  jiossible  to  stop  and  block  up  the  run 
with  In'irlvbjils  and  stniw.  In  shi)rt,  the  shieltl  might  be  eom- 
jwired  111  a  luiriwml.'il  (i>nerdnui,  of  which  the  polings  niu)  the 
iron  stars  supjuirting  the  ground  might  be  reganled  as  tlie  ^beet 
ptlca.*     The  whole  weight  of  the  shield  was  about  two  hundred 


Pur  II  cDtniilctv  iU-Mriptiou  nf  the  tJiictd,  iUiulraU:d  bjr  (.-tigniviDftF,  xv  lliai 

ton^ 


srrnunt  \rj/  Mr.  Ilrnry  L^w,  C.R.,  in  '  Wiale's  Quarterly  Pspcrs  on  EnsinMnog/ 
Pun  TX.  Rixl  X.     1843. 


\ 


I 


A 


The  BrwuU. 


19 


«ns,  1ml   llic!  pressure  wTiich  it  liwl  (o  resist  was  npwnrds  nf  aJ 
thtiusaml  ions ;  ami    there  were  but  few  ji;uis  of  the  fraiiit*  whlcl 
were  not  fracturwl  by  the  tremendous  pressure  of  tht  watt-r  whkll 
buret  in  upon  the  tuanel  from  time  tu  time  duriug  the  prugrcss 
of  the  work. 

In  further  explanatiaa  of  the  dctatU  of  the  shield,  it  may  he 
}»ric(ly  stnted  that  each  frame  was  supported  on  two  jacks  or  legs,] 
whirh  also  bore  tho  pressure  of  the  superincuinhf^nt  ground. 
When  the  cxcaratioii  had  sufficient]}'  j>rocec'dc<l,  these  legs^  by  a 
met-hanical  arranpcment,  were  made  to  movB  forward  by  means 
of  the  knee  and  aukle-joiiits  with  which  they  were  provided. 
Another  important  pnrt  of  the  shield  was  the  arms  or  slings, 
auxiliary  to  the  legs,  by  means  of  which  the  weight  of  any  frame 
couhl  be  wht>lly  thrown  iiijon  its  two  neighbours,  whih-  its  own 
le^  were  Uius  entirely  relnred  from  pressure.  This  expinlient 
was  found  of  f^cat  value  when  the  ground  on  which  any  siu(;lc 
frame  stood  was  soft  or  loose,  and  uniible  of  itself  lo  sup- 
port ihc  stiperincumhcnt  pressure,  as  well  as  to  enable  any  par- 
Umlnr  frame  ti>  Ije  removed   from   its  place  for  the  purpose  «»f 

jKiiring'  it.  Kijually  careful  arrangements  were  made  tor  tltu 
_  Ivance  of  the  side  plates  by  means  of  which  the  j^aufre  of  the 
tomic!  was  preserved  and  the  excavation  confined  within  its  due 
limits,  whilst  the  pressure  of  the  Irater  against  the  sides  of  tlic 
Work  was  reduced  to  its  mintmnm.  It  was  also  so  ctrntrived  by 
the  engineer  that,  uofler  nil  circumstances,  the  fmmt^  should 
maintain  their  pe'rpendicular  position  ;  and  hence  the  powerful 
altntments  with  which  the  shieltl  was  funiLshed. 

The  first  portions  of  the  shield,  mauuJactured  by  Maudslay, 
were  lowered  into  their  places  in  Octolx-r.  1^25;  the  remaining 
|»rts  shortly  followed,  and  on  the  2&th  Novcmljer  die  shield  « am- 
mmred  iU  eventful  mn«;h.  It  had  already  been  discii»tliKl  that 
the  kind  of  m>!1  dug  tlimugh  was  a1ti)geth*rr  diiTerent  from  that  rc- 
pn.'senti-d  by  the  surveyor;  and  instinil  of  astratum  of  strong  blue 
clay, — silt,  sand,  and  pravcl,  all  pervious  to  and  imprepmted  with 
water,  were  met  widi  in  varying  strata.  There  was  thus  already 
a  serious  difltculty  to  !«•  overcome  by  the  emgincrr  on  which  he 
Itad  not  reckoned,  but  rrsjieeliriK  whleli  he  ought  to  have  l>een 
iM'tter  informed;  and  it  will  he  found  that  to  this  rirrumstance 
the  roisfortnnes  afterwanls  L-ncouiitered  by  him  in  the  course  of 
the  ufHlertakinf;  w^tc  mainly  attributable.  At  this  early  stajje 
of  the  proceedings  Brunei  was  necessarily  subject  to  great  exrite- 
inent,  which  »(>riiiusly  affected  his  health.  Ho  obtained  relief 
l>Y  tlic  application  of  nuuiy  lef>(;lirs  In  his  Itciid,  and  he  shiwlv 
recoveretl,  Init  imly  tu  undergo  fresh  anxiety  and  to  be  subject  to 
renewed  attacks  of  his  old  enemy. 

ofl  By 


( 
I 


istur 
gnniiul,  frw  frmn  water,  ami  tlie  firet  section  of  wntio  suveii  fuct 
uf  t)i<!  iloulilc  nrclnvay  was  f!nmpU>ti^<l.  Irn^^iilarltica  in  the 
strata  stiortlv  aft4:r  bc^^iiii  tu  sliuw  tlu-uiscl vi;s ;  and  when  14 
feet  had  been  complete*!  the  water  burst  in  with  considerable  j 
force;  the  puinping--cng'ijie  became  deranged,  the  works  were 
stopped,  and  the  water  rose  12  feet  in  tlic  shaft.  The  enpiue 
liaring'  ItiMm  scrt  to  work,  tlie  ex('iL%'ati(m  ntrain  prneenled  ;  but  the 
anxieties  of  all  (•<inefrnwl  in  the  itndertaktn^  were  great.  Brunei 
himself  was  again  Loufined  to  bed;  Annstroni;,  the  principal 
resident  engineer,  broke  down ;  and  the  whole  direction  of  the 
undertaking  devolved  uiwn  jounjf  Brunei,  who  exhibited  a  rare 
dcgre(>  of  skill,  eourage,  and  encrg-y  in  enntendinf^  witli  these 
terrible  diffiuultics,  Tliu  excavating  and  building  went  forward 
al  the  rate  of  about  K  feet  a-week ;  and  by  the  middle  of  May, 
183(>,  upwaitls  of  100  feet  had  been  executed. 

The  work  went  on  for  months  with  varying  succc8«,  often 
interrupted  by  bursts  of  water  through  porous  strata,  and  rc<|uiring 
the  excrt-ise  of  unremitting  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the  eiigiuiH^rs 
and  workmen  to  keep  it  back.  Water  and  silt  were  constantly  _ 
coming  in,  and  often  the  tmttle  had  to  lie  renewed  many  times  ■ 
in  the  course  of  each  day.  Young  Brunei  was  always  at  the 
post  of  the  greatest  danger,  sometimes  remaining  tlieo-  for  several 
days  in  succession,  taking  sleep  nnly  by  snatches  on  the  stage  of 
the  shield.  No  constitution  could  long  endure  such  fatigue,  and 
we  are  not  therefore  surprised  to  find  that  he  wns  laid  up  for  days 
tf>gellier.  Then  his  fatiirr  took  )us  place,  frccpn^ntly  remaining 
all  night  in  the  frames.  To  add  to  tlicse  anxieties  the  directors 
began  to  grurablc  at  the  unex(>ei:ted  difliuulties  encouutere<I,  and 
the  increased  cost  incurred  in  carrying  on  the  work.  Brunei, 
to  liis  great  chagrin,  was  even  charged  by  the  chairman  with 
having  misleil  tin."  subscriliers  and  inveiglcji  tbem  into  the  under- 
taking. To  rcduec  tlic  exjienses  the  nnmbnr  of  stt|K7r!nti<ndents 
was  limitwl,  and  a  system  of  piece-work  was  introduced,  against 
which  Brunei  protested  in  vain.  Inferior  class  labourers,  prin- 
cipally Irish,  were  taken  on,  whose  unhandiness  greatly  hamjiered 
the  engineer's  proceedings.  The  work  was  so  new  to  them  and 
so  incomprehensible,  that  when  thnv  observed  any  unusual  activity 
among  llie  mJners^any  sudden  gush  of  siuhI  ur  nitlliiig  of  gravel 
upon  the  frames — tlieir  energies  bcciune  comj)letely  jmralysed, 
except  for  flight.  ■ 

As  the  excavation  advanced  towards  the  middle  of  the  stream^ 
the  perils  of  the  undcrtidting  increase*!.     There  was  but  little 
solid  ground   lictween  the  works  and   the  river;  pieces  of  coal, 
brickbats,  stones,  bones,  glass,  and  china— in  fact  the  scouringg  of 

ths 


J 


The  Brumh. 


21 


the  ThamEs^bottom — frequently  ilroppecl  ioto  the  framps.  The  bril 
of  tho  river  was  cxamineu  by  moans  of  a  di\'ing;-bellf  and  the  soil 
was  found  so  loojir  at  oiw  ]wrt  that  an  iron  pipe  was  readily  pushed 
down  into  the  frames.  On  the  ISth  of  May,  1827,  as  the  tide  rose, 
the  eround  si'enipd  as  th<iug-h  it  were  olive.  The  wiitci-  was  press- 
ing in  at  nil  ]M>ints,  and  it  was  not  long  in  entering.  Occasional 
bursts  of  dihiti'd  silt  were  fitlhiwed  by  in  overwhrhning  (loo<i  of 
slush  and  water,  which  soon  drove  all  bcfi>rc  it.  The  men»  forced 
out  of  the  shiehl,  fled  towards  the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  The 
water  came  on  iu  a  {(feat  wave,  threatening  to  sweep  them  back 
under  the  arch  by  its  recoil  against  the  circular  wall  of  the  shaft. 
The  lowest  flight  "f  steps  was  reached,  an<l  the  recoil  wave  surged 
under  the  men's  ivvX.  They  hurried  up  the  stairs  of  the  shaft, 
luul  it  was  thought  that  all  of  them  had  rcunn  in,  when  the  rry 
was  raised,  'A  rope!  a  rope!  save  him!  sav«  him!*  Some 
unfortunate  workman  had  been  left  behind,  and  was  seen 
struggling  in  the  water.  Young  Brunei,  seizing  a  rupe,  slid 
down  one  of  the  iron  ties  of  the  shaft,  reached  the  water,  jtnssed 
the  nipe  round  the  man's  btHly,  ami  lie  was  tmme<ltatelv  drawn 
up.  It  provcnl  to  be  old  TiUett,  the  engintvnian,  l^ic  roll  was 
thf'n  railed,  and  every  man  answered  to  his  name,  but  tho 
Tunnel  works  were  for  the  time  completely  droimed. 

On  examination  of  the  bed  of  the  river  from  the  diving-bell,  a 
large  hole  was  found  extending  from  the  centre  of  the  tunnel 
ejLiavation  to  a  considerable  distance  eastward.  Measures  were 
taken  to  fill  up  the  opening  with  saltpetre  Iwgs  fdh^  with  chiy, 
so  laid  OS  to  form  an  nn-h  in  thr  bed  of  the  river  immediately 
over  the  work.  A  raft  loaded  with  clay  was  also  sunk,  but  this 
expedient  not  answering  it  was  removed,  and  more  bags  of  clay 
were  sunk  instend.  After  this  operation  of  lining  the  bed  of 
the  river  with  clay  liad  lieen  persevered  in  for  nearly  a  inontli, 
anil  alxnit  30,0(M)  c;ubic  feet  of  clay  ha<l  been  thrown  into 
the  hole,  the  pumping  was  resumed.  The  water  was  thus 
gradually  cleared  out  of  the  shaft,  and  it  became  practicable 
to  examine  the  state  of  the  work  from  the  inside  in  a  boat. 
Ttie  shield  was  found  in  its  place-,  but  a»  immense  mass  of  silt 
ami  gravel  Blleil  tlie  tunnel  in  front  of  it.  The  details  of  the 
pTocee<lings  which  followed  are  related  by  Mr.  Ueamisli  with  cir- 
cumstaiitial  accuracy,  and  <K-casionally  with  grtnit  vigour.  In 
some  parts  of  the  biography  there  is  little  more  life  than  in  a  lay 
figure;  but  here,  where  Mr,  Beamish  speaks  "Ut  of  tlie  fulness 
of  his  knowledge — having  Ijeen  engageil  uiMm  tlie  work  as  one  of 
die  assiatant  engineers — he  liccomes  animated  and  even  elutjueat 
in  his  descriplifms. 

By  the  lOtb  of  November  following,  tlie  Tunnel  had  again  been 

so 


• 


aa  far  cleared  of  vratcr  tliat  young'  Brunrl  drtormtncil  u*  give 
dinner  in  one  of  iho  iircluis  to  about  fifty  friends  of  Uir  uiuh'r-. 
taking  ;  while  above  a  hundred  of  tho  leading  worknion  nma 
similarly  rcgalci]  in  the  adjoining;  arch.  The  band  of  the  Coid- 
stream  Guards  cntivcncd  the  scene,  nnd  the  proceeding:^  went  off 
with  jfTcat  ccht,  'XTie  celebration  liad,  bowi'vcr,  bwn  prrinalurc ; 
and  the  young  engineer  hiid  lieeii  'hallooing  iK'fore  lie  was  out  of 
the"— water.  For  in  two  months  the  Thame*  ngnhi  bui-st  in, 
owin^  in  s«>me  measure  to  the  iucuutiousness  of  young  Hrunel 
himself,  and  the  river  held  possession  of  d^  Tunnel  for  several 
yean.  Tlui  circumstances  connected  with  the  ficcond  Hooding 
are  so  well  told  by  Mr.  Beamish  that  we  quote  his  narTativc  of  ■ 
the  catastrophe  : — ■  I 

*  On  tbo  nioming  of  Saintdi^  Iho  12lh  of  JitniiAry  I  onme  on  dn^ 
at  six  o'clock,  but  woa  detained  abovegroond  in  writing  out  ordan 
for  tho  mmi  who  had  benn  rtiDfit  ex{>oHcc1  to  wet,  to  nlluw  thorn  to 
TCCoivQ  warm  boor,  with  a  littlo  gin  mixod,  as  hful  beooniu  the  UHual 
j>ractioe.  1  hsti  ftcucely  completed  tlio  last  order,  when  a  stnugo 
confuHnl  BcHutd  of  %'<iiucfi  sfHiniLHl  to  iHiiui  friim  tliu  shaft,  and  imniR* 
diatcly  tho  watt'ltman  msho<]  in,  cxclainiing  "The  water  is  in — tho 
TuuhgI  is  fiiU  !"  My  head  felt  as  though  it  would  burst^I  rushed  to 
th<]  n-urkuicu's  etaiioaaa  ;  it  was  hlocktitt  hy  tho  nit^u  ;  with  a  crowbar 
I  knocked  in  tho  side-door  of  the  viRiinrs'  staircwo ;  but  I  hod  not 
tiikim  many  steps  down  when  I  rocoireil  iMunberd  Bnmel  in  my  anns^ 
Tho  groat  waTc  nf  n-ater  hail  Ihniwn  him  to  Iho  nurfacii,  and  lig  WM 
providentially  preserved  from  the  foto  which  had  already  overwltelmod 
Lis  companions.  ''Ball!  Ball !— CtdUns!  Collins!"  wcro  tho  only 
wonls  ho  eould  for  hoiiuj  time  utt(!r;  hut  the  welUknown  vutccfl 
nnsn-Gi-od  not — they  wore  for  ever  silent. 

'  In  the  earnest  desire  to  make  progress,  some  of  the  prccaotionQ 
which  (fsperioneo  hiid  Khowii  to  Iw  so  important  were  uiifortmititoly 
omittod ;  and  Tsaml»rd  Brmiol,  cnlctilating  upon  tho  tried  dldll, 
ctiQTAgo,  and  phyNoal  power  of  somo  of  tbo  men  coming  ou  in  tlio 
tnoniiiig  Kliifl  (particularly  Ball  and  Golliiiaj,  veaturud,  at  higli  n-ntor, 
or  while  the  tide  was  still  rising,  to  open  tho  ground  at  No.  1. 
According  to  his  own  Rccoimt,  given  to  me  that  day,  upon  tho  rouovaii 
of  tht!  side-coring  tho  grooud  bogau  to  swell,  and  in  a  few  moracotfl 
a  column  of  solid  grotmd,  nbont  eight  or  ten  inches  in  diameter,  forced 
Itodf  in.  This  was  immediately  followed  by  tho  OTenrhelmiiig  tor- 
rent. ColliDS  was  forced  out  of  tho  box,  and  all  tlio  unilinching  offurts 
of  Ball  to  timber  tho  back  jirovod  onavailing.  So  rapid  was  the  infltuc 
of  water,  that  had  thu  throu  nut  qinttcd  tho  stage  imiiiixb'atMy  they  ■ 
must  have  been  swept  off,  A  rash  of  air  suddenly  extingoiKhed  tbo  ■ 
gas-li^ts,  Slid  they  were  loft  to  strogglo  in  utter  darkness.  Scarcolj 
luul  they  prfwoedod  twenty  foot  firom  tho  Ftagn  tlmu  tlioy  wnro  thrown 
down  by  the  timber  now  iu  riolent  agitation,  for  alrcnily  had  the 
jratcr  nearly  reached  as  high  at)  IsambutVs  waist.  With  great  diffi- 
he  extnotod  his  right  log  &om  sometliiiig  hoavy  which  had  fallen 

njiun 


Tktt  BmtuiU. 


98 


H,  ftnd  iiukIo  his  wty  into  Uio  east  arch.  Tboro  iie  pftuaad  for  ft 
momioit  to  call  for  Ball  and  CuUitui,  but,  rbcoivtug  no  ontn'Or,  and  thfl 
wnUr  cnntJQuiDg  to  rise,  lie  van  (.-ompoUoil  to  coubhU  liio  own  Bufetj 
by  fligbt.  Arrivod  ut  tbo  aliaft,  ho  luund  the  wurloiicii's  Htoircwo, 
wbicb  oiWDcd  into  tbd  east  arch,  crowdud.  Tbu  luuruing  tJiifl  had 
not  all  camo  down ;  the  Dif;ht  shift  hod  not  nil  conjo  up ;  added  to 
which.  thoHo  who  bad  t^acctiodt-d  iu  pkciiig  t1iciiisulve<a  out  of  danger, 
forgelAil  of  their  Usa  fortunate  comf>iuuoDK,  stopiHKl  and  IjluckiMlup 
Ibo  poosage.  Unable  to  moko  Ihm  way  intn  tliu  vent  arch  luid  to  tlio 
Tiajtom'  afeaircAH,  which  was  qnito  olcar,  owing  to  tho  rapidity  with 
which  tho  wnter  rose,  laambard  Bmnel  had  no  aitenkativa  bat  to  aban- 
don himsfdf  Ut  tbo  tremendous  wave,  wliioh,  in  a  few  aoconda,  bora 
him  on  ita  aooUung  and  angry  surfibco  to  the  top  of  tho  abaft.  With 
snch  fc«ce,  indeed,  did  the  water  riao,  that  it  jomped  orer  tha  corb  at 
tlkO  workinoiiB  untraiicc.  Tbrco  uion  who,  iiiidiug  tbo  staircaaftj 
choked,  undoavourcd  to  dsccud  a  long  ladder  which  lay  against  tbsj 
shaft,  were  swept  nndcr  the  arch  b;  tho  roooil  of  tho  ware.  Tb«  | 
huMiir  luiil  tliu  b»VL«r  flight,  of  tbo  stairoaBO  wuru  ln-nicvn  to  piooua. 
Wv  hail  then  to  monm  tlio  loas  of  Ball,  CoIUob,  Long,  G.  Evaui^ 
J.  Oook,  and  Seaton.  .  .  .  iMmbard  liniuol  was  fonnd  to  ban 
neoived  iubsnial  injury  na  well  aa  kotofo  abmsion  in  tho  knoo'jointi 
■nd  was  oouflnod  to  bis  bod  for  months.' 

Tbo  funds  of  the  Tamiel  Company  werr  by  this  time  «- 
Iwaatec] ;  and  it  wasdiHf>rniine(l  tu  makr  an  appeal  t^i  the  country 
for  die  nirnns  of  fmiehin^  it.  A  BtiliM-ription-list  w.-is  i>pcnca, 
and  iH,i)W)/.  proniiKm]  :  but  this  sum  was  a  ini*rc  'llfa-bite,'  and 
tfap  works  romaincNl  suspended.  The  only  hope  which  remaini^l 
was  that  the  Government  would  toJto  up  and  prosecute  tho  undcr^ 
taking  as  one  of  national  importance  and  utility.  At  len^  the 
Mtniatr>'  ccmsontod  ti>  malcc  a  loan  of  ^4r>,000/.  for  the  purpftae 
of  cniLlilint;  tlir  Tunnel  tri  l>e  romjiletcd,  and  die  ftrst  tniitalinnnt 
was  ailvanciil  In  Dccemlxr,  IH^H.  The  water  was  then  pumped 
out  of  the  Tunnel,  and  the  works  were  n>commenced,  after 
baring  bcon  at  a  standstill  for  n  period  of  seven  years.  A  new 
shiehl,  of  exrellonl  cnutmction,  was  supplied  by  the  Messrs; 
Rennio,  which  wns  sntisfacturilv  plar(i<l  in  jxisitiun  by  the  Ist  of 
Marrb,  I^Sti,  But  thn  iliflieullieii  of  the  undertakin:;  wore  nut 
yet  entirely  overcome  ;  the  river  broke  in  again  and  a^ain — three 
times  in  twenty  weeks,  within  n,  distance  of  only  twenty-six  feet  j 
bnt  by  pcnevenince  and  skill  tlic  water  was  ultimately  mastered, 
nnd  the  work  was  nt  last  brought  to  a  completion,  and  openeil  to 
UiR  public  on  thn  2dtb  of  March,  184.1. 

It  was  tho  engineer's  last  work.     When  the  Tunnel  was  np- 
proai:lun(;   completion,  nrunel    had   a  slight   stroke   of  paralysis, 
irrmi  which  he  gradually  recovered,  but  with  his  phyiical  power*' 
•oriously  sbakeiu     In  his  dinry  of  procwtUags  coimcctcd  with 

the 


the  cnginemog  operations,  which  hiul  bem  penned  up  to 
dine  in  a  fine  coppcrp late-like  French  hand,  wcm  orciirrcti  the 
words,  written  after  his  rpcovery,  cvidentlv  with  shaking  fingers, 
'Tliank  God,  the  Tunnel  is  done!'     The  anxiety  and  excitement 
of  so  many  years  were  at  an  end;  but  he  himself  was  left  b,^ 
wreck.       WliUe    the   work  was    goin^   on    (and   it   went    cm   by  ( 
niplit  as  well   as  by  day),  he  ordered  that  he  should  be  wakeneil 
up  every  two  hours  during  the  ni^ht,  and    infurmeil   of  tlie  pn>-     ' 
gress  made.     His  house  at  Kotherhitlie  was  close  to  the  works^fl 
and  on  a  bell  within  bis  bedroom  being  mng  from  below,  he  got 
up,  struck  a  light,  examined  the  portion  of  soil  sent  tip  tbe  tubo 
for  Iiig  inspection,  and  after  writing  nut  instructions  to  the  uorlt- 
Dien,  and   making  an  rntrv  In   his  record,  lie  went  to  bed  agnin. 
Mrs.  UruncI  aftjirwarils  stitei)  that,  lor  montlis  after  the  Tunnel 
was  finisheil,  she  used  regularly  to  waken  up  every  two  houri|^_ 
and  her  husband  with  her.  ^M 

Mrs.  Itruncl  shared  all  her  husband's  anxieties,  and  many  ot^ 
his  lahdurs.  Writing  in  his  journal,  nl  the  age  of  7li,  he  said, 
'To  you,  my  dearest  Sophia,  1  am  inilebte<l  for  all  my  success.' 
And  in  another  plactr,  amidst  the  entries  relating  to  the  Tunnel 
works,  occurred  these  words  :  *  On  this  tiny,  42  years  since,  was  1 
united  to  Sophia  Kingdom,  now  La<ly  Brunei ;'  for  in  1*541,  amidst 
bU  otlier  honours,  he  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  knighthood. 
Even  in  his  old  age  he  retained  all  the  sentiment  of  his  youth, 
and  continued  In  treat  Lady  Hnmel  as  a  lover  rather  than  as  the 
aged  partner  of  his  forty  years  of  hardtthlps.  Tlie  terrible  trials 
of  their  early  life  bad  endeared  tbt^m  to  each  oUilt  in  an  unusual 
degree ;  their  affection  had  been  confirmed  and  strengthened 
by  their  sobscquent  stniggles;  ami  while  blessing  the  day  that 
first  brought  them  together,  tlie  old  man  wouhl  teiHlerly  take  her 
hand  and  lift  it  to  his  li[ts.  hie  exhibited  much  of  the  graceful 
nnlileness  of  the  (dd  French  school,  which  well  suited  his  kliidir 
and  aOirctiunate  nature.  Yet  he  was  on  tht?  whole  a  ilisappuinted 
man,  and,  notwithstanding  his  unquestioned  ingenuity  and  inde- 
fatigable perseverance,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  excepting  thefl 
block-machinery,  bis  undertakings  diil  mit  pmve  successful  in  a 
nrcuniary  Bcnse.  His  biograjjlier  confessiw  that  he  was  defective 
jn  the  businesK  quality,  and  that  he  placed  his  |>ecuniarv  interests 
*!n  the  liands  of  those  tvlursc  want  of  lajtarity,  or  ef|nivora1 
integrity,  more  than  once  brought  bim  to  the  verge  of  ruin.' 
The  Thames  Tunnel,  though  its  completion  was  highly  honour- 
able to  the  engineer,  as  a  commereinl  adventure  proved  disastrous 
to  all  ccmcerned  in  it.  It  (^wt  more  tlian  double  the  original 
estimate,  and  was  next  to  useless  when  made.  AH  thi'se  things, 
doubtless,  preyed  upon  the  mind  of  the  engineer;  yet,  though 

merely 


d 


The.  Bramh. 


25 


increlv  %'eg't'Iating  !n  liis  lalpr  ymrs,  lie  Iivol  lo  an  old  agf, 
expiring  at  his  huusc  in  Park  Sliwt,  WcsUiiinsU-T,  on  tlie  17tb 
December,  l?i4it,  in  his  SUiycar. 

The  elder  BniDfl,  towards  the  close  of  hi»  life,  was  proud  to 
Itch  the  risinff  ceiebritv  of  bis  son.  VVc  have  seen  how  ener- 
Hiraity  Isamhanl  a^isistcd  his  fatlicr  in  farrying  on  tlit-  works 
of  the  Tuiint'l,  ilown  to  the  ycai  1828,  when  he  was  severoSy 
injured  by  the  lerribh-  irrti|)tion  of  the  river.  Me  worked  by 
his  father's  side  for  6re  years,  sharing  his  labours  and  nnsietiea, 
taking  part  in  his  experiments  connected  with  the  carbonic  frn% 
en^ne,  and  gathering  experience  of  the  most  valuable  kind  even 
from  failures  and  defeats.  He  had  lM>en  an  exjiert  niei-hniiic 
almost  from  a  boy,  when  he  distinguisheil  himself  by  his  carvings 
in  ivory.  He  had  also  at^quired  considerable  deKterity  in  llio 
handling  of  tools,  while  working  with  M.  Breguet,  the  celebrated 
clironomctcr  and  watch  maker  at  Paris,  in  1821.  He  was  tlius 
enabled  readily  to  execute  anv  models  which  he  requireil,  eitlier 
in  wood  or  iron.  He  bad  besides  well  leaml  what  bis  father 
termed  '  the  alphabet  ui  tlie  engineer' — the  nrt  of  rapid  anc 
accurate  drawing ;  and  withal  he  was  a  ready  calculator,  a  si>und^ 
mathematician,  and  generally  well  grounded  in  the  practical 
u-iences. 

When  the  Tunnel  works  were  brought  to  a  stand  by  the  ir^ 
raption  of  1828,  young  Brunei  sought  employment  in  other 
undertakings:  and  wr  shortly  after  Ami  him  ajipointed  engineer 
to  tlie  Clifton  Suspension  Bridge  Company.  With  the  assistance 
of  his  father,  he  prejiare^l  thi'  design  of  a  suitable  structure  for 
crossing  the  river  Avon.  The  Clifton  Company  were,  how- 
pver,  unable  at  that  time  to  raise  the  requisite  funds  to  build 
ihi'  bridge;  but  the  design  was  afterwards  iidopte*!,  with  modi- 
fii-atioiLs,  in  tliir  Siispciisinn  Bridge  of  the  same  span  ei-ected  across 
ihi-  Thames  at  Huugertonl,  in  IHiS — one  of  the  most  airy  and 
gmceful  bridges  on  the  river.  Even  while  we  write,  it  is  in  process 
of  removal,  to  give  place  to  a  much  less  picturesque  structure 
— the  bridge  intended  to  carry  the  Charing  Cross  Kailway  ;  and 
the  chains  arc  to  be  re-suspcndcd  at  Clifton,  on  the  site  for  which 
the  dfbign  was  originally  mode.  Mr.  Brunei  8ucce«'detl  in 
olitaining  various  uther  engineering  emplovments.  He  siipcrln- 
ti'uded  the  cunstructiun  of  ibicks  at  Bristol  and  Sunderland,  ami 
laid  out  several  ti-amways  fur  the  accommodation  of  collieries  in 
Glouccstcrslurc  and  South  Wales.  This  last  kind  of  occupation 
probably  had  the  effect  of  directing  his  attention  to  the  line  of 
engineering  in  whicli  be  was  principally  employwl  during  the 
leniainder  of  his  life. 

By   the    beginning   of   1830  the  Liverpool    and    MumhesteT 

Railway 


The  Bntaeh. 


llailway  was  in  full  operation.  The  success  of  the  locomotire 
oni^ino  bad  l>econiQ  matter  of  fact ;  ind  a  strong  desire  existed 
throiiphout  the  country  for  the  extension  of  railways,  more 
especially  to  connect  the  larg:er  towns  with  L<indon.  Numerous 
nrnjt*cts  were  sliortly  set  on  fuot  with  this  objeet ;  ainnnufst 
othrrs  the  Grc-at  Western  Railway  Company  was  orffanised  in 
1B33,  thou^'h  the  Act  was  not  obtained  until  the  year  1H35:  of 
tUi*  umlertnkinj;;  .Vlr.  Brunei  was  appiinted  the  engineer.  He 
was  only  about  iS  years  uM  at  the  time,  but  he  was  skilful,  in- 
geninus,  full  of  resiiurt-es,  and  ambitious  to  disliuffuisli  himself 
in  the  higher  walks  of  his  profession.  Indoxl,  from  nn  early 
IKiriml  be  ju-cms  Ut  have  resolved  to  strike  out  an  entirety  now 
eoursir  in  railway  engineering'.  For  this  he  was  much  criticised, 
and  by  some  severely  blamnl.  But  it  is  only  fair  to  take  into 
account  the  pusitiun  of  railway  enterprise  at  tlic  time  when 
Mr.  Brunei  entered  upon  this  part  of  bis  career.  TTie  only 
IMSScnger  line  of  any  importance  nclually  at  work  was  the  Liver- 
jHHil  nud  Manchester  liailway.  The  London  and  Birmingham 
and  Grand  Junction  schemes  were  In  progress;  but  their  object 
was  to  serve  districts  dilTerent  from  that  penotratcd  by  the  Great 
Western  line.  Nor  was  it  at  that  time  anticipatt^d,  except  by 
n  few  far-seeing  men,  who  were  then  thought  unreasonably  san> 
guine  !n  their  exp<.>cUitionB,  that  railway*  would  b«  extended  in  all 
districts,  luid  Iweoine  not  only  the  highways  but  the  hyeways  of 
Irafiie  ihrouglmut  England,  When  George  Stephenson  was  asked 
what  gauge  should  be  adopted  on  the  Leicester  anil  Swannington 
end  Canterbury  lines,  without  a  moment's  hrsitntion  he  pro- 
oouncod  in  favour  of  the  gauge  of  the  Stockton  and  narltngton. 
and  Liverpool  ami  Manchester  lines.  *  Ltiy  them  down  4  feet 
8}  inches,*  he  said;  'though  they  area  long  way  apart  from 
each  other  now,  depend  upon  it  they  will  all  be  joined  toge^ier 
some  day.'  But  many  persons  then  rcgordcd  btcphciuoa  as  an 
overbcatcil  enthusiast  about  railways,  though  events  proved  that 
his  enthusiasm  was  but  the  far-siglited  judgment  of  a  man  of 
unusually  strong  common  sense. 

Ml.  ]3nmel,  for  reasons  which  apiwaretd  to  him  and  his  friends 
conclusive  at  the  time,  determined  not  to  adopt  the  gauge  of  the 
railways  which  hud  until  then  been  laid  ilown.  He  held  that 
it  was  ttio  narnnv  for  the  accommodation  of  passenger  trains  run 
at  high  speeils,  tliough  it  might  sufficiently  answer  the  pur])09es 
of  coal  and  merc:hnndisn  traffic.  Mr.  Brunei  )p(^lieved  that 
greater  safety,  as  well  as  freedom  firom  oscillation,  would  be 
secured  by  proriding  a  broader  b-ise  for  the  suppi^rt  of  tlie  car- 
riages, while  it  would  give  greater  scope  for  developing  the 
power)  of  the  locomotive  engine  ;  and   tW  by  improving  the 

gradi^its 


Tlie  BrutuU. 


17 


gTiulic»t3  thrntig-hnut  t)io  wbole  line,  and  avnidin^  sliarp  curves, 
lir  waiild  Ix!  Rtmbled  tn  mftintani  tlir  liigliflst  practirable  vplority.J 
Tbesn  (fmsideratioas  formed  tlie  basis  of  his  plan  of  tht;  Gmat 
Western  Railway. 

The  line  waa  consinicted  of  the  unusual  f^auf^c  of  8<>vrn  feet. 
The  gradients  were   extremely  good.     The  rails  were  laid  on 
continuous  bearings  thrniighout^  the  widtli  of  the  road  enablinf^ 
it  tu  art-oninifM]at(>  jKiwHrliil   Piig-jnes  and   Inrgf  rarrtag'Ps.      It   is 
true,  rx{>iTi(*iiCH  bns  served  in  a  jrrcit  measure   tii  iliiiiinlsh  the 
furce  of  the  couxidtrrntious  which  induced  liruiiel  Ut  depart  froin 
the  plans  oi"  constructiou  adupCed  by  the  Su'pheosons.     The  lori>- 
raotivc  engine  has  been  so  much  improved  of  late  years,  liutb  in 
power  and  compactness,  tliat  it  is  now  ascertainctl  tlint  a  wider 
(^ugu  than  4  fei-t  8}  incites  is  unnecessary.     Rut  such  was  not  tho 
case  when  thf^  Great  VVestiini  line  was  Iniil  out ;  and  the  improve- 
muut  of   the   locomotive    itself   lins   l>een,    in    no    small    degree, 
accelcmied  bv  the  stimulus  ^iren  to  it  by  the  bold  innovations  oITb 
the  i^ireat  Wcsli-ru  eiiKineer.     The   line   must,   on   the  wh<ile,   be' 
rr^nn]R<l  na  a  f^eiit,  and,  in  many  resjKKrts,   a   novel   enterprise, 
carriiHJ  out  in  the  coui[)araUve  infanryuf  railways.    Tlmengineur 
had  mil  uiijy  lo  construct  it,  but  tn  defend  his  plans  idniost  ineltj 
by  inch.      Indeed,  no  enterprise  of  the  kind  liait  been  the  subjn 
of  audi  furious  contention,  lattleti  amouKst  the  share  hold  urs,  andl 
batdes  in  f.-irli-iment ;    the  chief   of  all,  as  ever^budy  k[u)ws, 
having  been  the  battle  of  the  gauges. 

TIm*  direcTtors  themselves  seem  early  to  have  had  inifi;;ivtng| 
as  Ui  llic  expeiliencv  of  the  changes  introduced  by  tlieir  engineer  i 
ami  in  IH3H,  while  the  lino  was  still  under  construction,  the] 
invited  several  enffinters  of  eminence  to  advise  with  them  on 
ailijnct.  Robert  Stephenson  and  James  VV'alker  declined  to 
but  Nicholas  \V'no<l  and  John  Hawkslmw  cdUM-nted.      Hot 

it  in  rrportH,  which  concurred  in  recoinuiending  the  adoption' 
of  tho  iiaiTow  or  established  gauge  in  place  of  the  brimil  or 
cscvptiiMuil  ODD.  Mr.  tlawkshaw  clearly  pointml  out  that  tho 
existing  gauge  had  originated 'in  experience,  and  that  the  men 
vhosc  ptactical  knowledge  ol  railways  hnd  iK-en  the;  greatest,  snw 
the  least  occHsinn  lor  its  alteration  ;  iliat  three-fourtlis  ol  England 
was  lieing  trnversied  by  the  narrow  gauge,  and  it  would  be  a 
great  evil  If  Uie  Great  Western  district  were  lo  bo  isolated  from 
alt  Uiff  great  lines  in  its  nelgliUmrhcMKl ;  that  notliing  was  to 
lie  gained  by  increasing  the  width  of  the  gauge,  whilst  much 
roigi]t  be  lost  by  unnecessary  expenditure  of  capital  in  the 
first  place,  and  bv  driving  (lafTic  in  oUier  directions  in  din  next ; 
ami,  under  tliese  circuuistnnces,  he  strongly  urgeil  that,  as  only 
twcnty'two  miles  of  tho  railway  had  been  laid  down  al  the  t]at« 

of. 


I 


I 


of  his  rcportf  that  portion  should  hp  forthwith  converted 
narrow  gau^c,  and  tlic  remtiiniler  cxecute<1  of  tha  same  width. 
Mr.  Hawkshuw's  rerominendations  were  of  no  avail.  Mr.  Bninel, 
Mr.  Babbajcrv,  and  .Mr.  Kus^ell  Ciuruoy'opposcd  their  adoption  by 
the  Company ;  Genius,  Science,  and  Elcujuence  carried  tlie  day  ; 
Mr.  Brunei  assured  the  shaieliohlers  that  tlip  broad  gauge  was  the 
Iiest  gauge,  and  tJiat  the  Great  Western  '  could  have  n»  ronnexi*™ 
with  any  other  o{  the  main  linos  of  railway.*  On  a  division,  Uie 
shareholders  endorsed  the  recommemtations  of  their  engineer, 
and  the  controversy  was  for  a  time  put  an  end  to  by  the  compic-  « 
tion  of  the  Gn.>at  Western  an  a  broad  guuge  railway.  H 

Vcsirs  passe*!,  and  railways  of  a  different  gauge  met  Mr. 
Rnmel's  linr  at  many  points.  Mr.  iirund  himsi-lf  was  tli« 
engtniMrr  of  varicius  lines  of  namiw  gimge,  tlierehy  admitting  its 
practical  sufficiency  for  railway  traffic.  'I'he  break  of  gauge 
eventoaiiy  came  to  be  viewed  in  the  light  of  a  public  calamity. 
The  intervention  of  Parliament  was  even  called  for,  and  a. 
Riiyal  Cnmmissitm  was  appointe<l  to  take  evidenee,  and  rejKwt 
on  the  sulijert,  which  tliey  ilid  in  184t}.  But  it  was  t(M>  late 
to  remedy  the  evil.  W'liile  an  actual  saving  of  capital  would 
have  been  eftecle<l  by  the  adoption  of  Mr.  llawksliaw's  rocom- 
raendation  eight  years  before,  it  was  now  found  that  the  altera-  ^ 
tion  of  the  Great  Western  lines  from  the  brood  to  the  narrow  H 
gauge  would  cost  upwards  of  a  million  sterling. 

Hnw  was  this  amount  to  I^e  raised?  By  the  sharehoWers  or 
by  the  public?  Tlie  (luestion  was,  irHleed,  felt  to  Im-  surrounded 
with  ililhcultv;  and  ^(1  tliat  the  commission  did  was  to  recom- 
mend the  future  restriction  of  the  broad  gauge  lines  to  their  own 
district.  Since  that  time  something  lias  been  done  to  remedy  ^ 
the  original  evil.  The  mixed  gauge — tliat  is,  the  narrow  gauge  fl 
within  the  bn»ul — h.is  Ixren  adujited,  and  is  grndually  extending, 
'Ilie  most  recent  upplicatiim  of  this  plnn  lins  l»-en  Itetwfren  ]»n- 
don  and  Heading  :  and  the  pruprietnrs  of  the  Great  Western 
Railway  will  probably  have  to  make  up  their  minds  before  long 
to  exten<l  tlie  narrow  gauge  to  Bristol,  if  not  throughout  their 
entire  system. 

The  fireot  VVVstrm  Railway  was  built  in  all  i-eap«?cTts  according 
to  Mr.  BiiKiers  plans,  and  the  works  were  exMnite<l  tin  a  sciile  of 
great  magnificence  aud,  it  must  be  added,  of  unusual  costlinesfi, 
]n  <)esigning  the  bridges  along  the  line,  he  displayed  ibc  skill  of  fl 
an  arcbitcct  as  well  as  of  an  engineer.  Some  nf  llieae  structures  " 
are  characterised  by  much  grniuleur  of  conception,  and  form  fine 
idijerts  in  the  lundsitipe,  from  wliatever  points  tliey  are  seen. 
'Hie  Wliarncliffe  vjaducl  over  llie  Brent,  iK-ar  Hanwell,  8?W)  feet 
in  length,  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  successful  architectuml 

invention. 


TTIw  BrttneU. 


inrcntion.  It  is  supported  Uy  ci^lit  elliptical  nrchcs  of  seventy 
feet  s[yan,  with  a  spring  of  eighteen  feel  in  the  centre.  Gigantic 
square  columns  rise  in  pairs  from  a  broad  square  hnwinrnt ; 
each  pair,  united  nt  the  tcp  by  IkjM  architmvcs,  forming  the 
singU'  pier  from  whicli  Oie  arches  spring.  Thedesig-ii  is  through- 
out handsome  and  eousistent ;  the  whole  structure  imparting' 
the  idea  of  massiveness  and  power,  but  without  heaviness  or 
ineleg-nncc. 

Tlie  bridge  at  Maidenhead  was  a  still  more  remarltable  effort, 
so  daring  as  almost  tn  expose  the  engineer  to  tlie  charge  ol"  rash- 
ness. It  would  sceni  as  if  he  had  here  created  a  difficulty  for  the 
express  purpose  of  showing  how  he  could  overcome  it,  for  tliere 
was  no  necessity  for  making  the  main  arches  of  the  extraordinary 
width  and  flatness  which  he  gave  to  them.  The  bridge  consists  of 
ten  brick  arclMS,  the  two  principal  being  each  128  feet  span,  with 
a  spring  of  only  24  feci  3  inches.  Thev  an-  said  lo  be  the  widest 
ami  flattest  arches  ever  constructetl  of  bricks.  And  when  it  is 
considered  that  these  bricks  are  of  the  insignificant  size  of  only 
4^  by  Sj  inches,  and  that  each  of  the  enormous  spans  has  to 
carry  not  only  its  own  weight,  but  its  proportion  of  the  road,  and 
railway  trains  running  over  it  at  high  speeds,  it  will  probably 
l»e  admitted  that  a  design  so  Iwld  and  perilims  is  one  rathec  to 
lie  marvelled  at  than  followed.  Iiulce^i,  iK-foro  the  work  was 
finishctl,  the  crowns  of  the  arches  exbibitcil  signs  of  ilisjilace- 
ment;  one  of  tbem  had  to  be  rebuilt  down  tn  die  haunches,  and 
it  became  necessary  at  last  to  form  an  arch  of  solid  concrete  of 
considerable  thickness  over  the  brick  vnussoirs,  which  do  not 
therefore  support  the  structure  by  virtue  of  their  own  resistance, 
ss  might  lie  supposed. 

Various  other  works  of  a  formidable  character  occur  on  the 
Great  Western  line,  incluiling  a  tunnel  ot  nearly  two  miles 
Doder  Box  Hill,  and  others  of  lesser  magnitude,  a  stone  viaduct 
nc«r  Bath  of  sixty-five  twenty  feet  arches,  and  numerous  bridges, 
cuttings,  and  emimnkmcnts,  all  of  which  were  exccutwl  with 
eminent  skill  and  success.  In  laying  down  ',the  permanent 
mod,  Mr.  Hruiiel  adopted  several  allogetlier  new  methods.  For 
instance,  the  hmgitudinal  timbers  on  which  the  rails  were  laid 
were  made  to  rest  upon  die  heads  of  piles  driven  deep  into  the 
road.  But  this  proving  to  be  a  faulty  method  of  construction, 
the  heads  of  the  piles  were  sawn  off,  and  much  valnable  timber 
was  thus  left  burini  in  the  road.  These  experiments,  lluiugli 
costly,  were  not  M'ithout  llieir  use,  anil  even  the  errors  fonimitl*»d 
laying  down  the  Great  Kxperimental  R,-iilway — as  the  line 
to  be  calleil — proved  of  use  to  other  engineers  by  enabling 
to  determine  what  methoils  safely  to  follow  as  well   as 

what 


what  to  avoid.  In  the  mean  time  Mr.  Brunei  became  fiuncnu 
as  on  cnfii^ineer ;  and  wh«n  the  demand  arose  for  further  railwarsy 
he  WR8  larjfcly  and  profitably  employed.  'Hie  South  VVnles  the 
Rriitto)  and  Exeter,  the  South  Devon,  the  Cornwall,  and  other 
lines  in  rnnnection  with  the  Great  Western  system  in  the  Western 
aiwl  Midh'uid  districts,  were  mainly  laid  out  hy  him  and  ron- 
structfKl  after  his  plans.  ^M 

The  South  Devon  Railway  was  in  many  rcipccts  an  unfortu-™ 
nate  undertaking^ — unfortunate  for  Mr.  Hrunel  himself  as  well 
as  its  pniprielors.      It  was  projected  in    1841,  ahaiit  which  timOH 
the  plan  of  wnrkin|r  railwars  hy  atmosphrrir  pressiiTL-  ln-^n  ttf^| 
attract  the  attculmn  of  sricntific    mt-n.      Instead   of  haulin^f  the 
trains  along  the  railway  by  locomotive  p>wer,  it  wag  proposed  by 
the  new  system  to  impel  them  by  a  piston  workinjr  in  a  tube 
pre-viously   exhauxtiKl    of  its  atmospherie  air    by   the    aetltm    of 
staliiinarv    steam-rngines.       Messrs.    Cle^g    and     Smnuda     had 
patiMitiTfl  a   very  Iiif^cnioiis   iiminjjcincnt  wiUi  this  objcet,  M-liieh 
ul  once  attracted  Mr.  Drun<-d'satti--ntion  and  secured  his  approval.* 
It  seemed  to  him  to  present  a  ready  method  of  working  railways 
of  much  steelier  frrodtents  than  the  locomotive  was  capalilc  uf . 
surmounting ;    and    lu    his    mind    it    appeared    to  combino 
cssf'ntial   a/irantagcs   of  economy,  eaffrty.  and   cimvenience.      Htfj 
bad  Imx-ii  enf^^nl  bs  the  enginetrr  of  an  Italian  railway  di-sif^ofd* 
to  connect  (icnoa   with   Turin   and*  Milan,   one    part  of  which 
must  necessarily  surmount,  by  a  steep  incline,  one  of  the  [msnea 
of  the  Apennines;  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  this  clejraut  and 
apparently  etiective  metlio<l  of  securing  power  was  exactly  sailed      ' 
for   his   pur|xi9i!,      Numenius  expin-iments   were  made   with   thefl 
atmospheric  upj>amtiiK  laid  d<»wn  «m  a   ]iiu-t  of  thir  West  London 
Railway  at   \Vormwood  Scrubs  ;  and  their  succe^  was  such  as 
to  induce  the  directors  of  the  Dublin  and  Kingstown  Railway  ti> 
adopt  this  method  of  haulage  u{Hin  their  brniich  line   betweea 
Kingstown    nnd    Dalki-y.      AlKiut   tht*    same    time    Mr.    I^runel 
recommended  its  ndii|)tion  by  the  Croydon  Company  and  by  tlia^_ 
South  Devon  Com|)any,  of  which  last  he  was  the  engineer.      Hftfl 
also  appeared  in  l^arliamcnt  as  its  strenuous  advocate,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the   Newcastle  and   Ikrwick    locomotive    line   of  the 
Stephenisoiis.  ^1 

Mr.  Brunei  by  no  means  stood  alone  in  advocating  the  supe- V 
riorily  of  the  atmospheric  principle  in  railway  working.     It  wu 
coButenanced    by  the   Goveriunent   engineers,  and  Sir   Robot, 


Sir  Itftoibard  BniQ«l  iras  oqaally  captlvsicd  by  Hie  {nveiittna :  ud  be  pvo*^ 

"      s,  ftiul 
^  the 

Peel 


'  Dir  itftBimra  nniiici  wu  oqmuj  capiiviica  07  inn  armmaa ;  waa  do  pro*' 
IHMed  la  sppiT  ii  in  wofkiiu  out  oalf  nM^ugers,  bat  burses,  curiam,  aiul ' 
ffoodi,  up  uiif  dowu  thv  (hntu  of  the  Thumes  Tannidl,  bi  wt-U  as  throu^  the 
Tunoel  lts«l/. 


The  Uruiwb. 


SI 


Pt'fl  greatly  fa^ounxl  it,  Mr.  Vigiiolles,  Sir  William  Cuhitt,  and 
otfirr  engiitM'rs  »f  eminence,  npjK-arcd  ns  \\s  siipjuirUTs  Iwforc 
Committee*  of  Parliament.  But  il  was  met  by  Mjuallv  strouR 
(i]>po>ition«  es])ocial[y  by  the  Stepbens^ms,  who  held  that  the 
atmusjilK'iic  rnilwiiy  was  but  a  rp|ictition,  under  more  difiicult 
coniliLioiis,  of  tlie  fucil  ciigim-'u  antl  nijicj  of  tlin  onrly  cda!  mil- 
WAVS  ;  and  a  series  of  tnitUcs  wns  fought  orrr  the  atinospheric 
iyitFin,  almost  ns  fierce  as  those  over  tlie  gauges.  Mr.  liruiiel 
dixplayrd  the  greatest  adroitness  under  the  legal  and  technical 
enM*-<juc»tioning  of  counsel  to  which  he  waa  exposed,  and  his 
tMdy  nppHiation  of  facts  rarely  failed  biro.  IJc  failed,  however, 
in  (-(irrying-  his  atmospheric  railway  thrtiugh  NOTtliumberland, 
but  he  succeeded  in  fiiouth  Devon,  la  confident  reliance  on 
the  'principle,*  the  line  auUiurizcd  in  the  latter  district  vas 
provided  with  anusually  large  tubes  and  powerful  stationary 
engines;  and  it  was  constructed  of  such  steep  gradients  as  to 
worked  with  dilficulty  by  the  locomotive  engine,  which  was 
ipuseil  to  Ije  discarded.  In  further  proof  of  his  perfect  faith 
the  soundness  of  the  atmospheric  system,  Mr.  Brunei  in- 
TMted  ab^ut  20,000/.  of  his  savings  in  the  undertaking. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  Uie  progress  or  rather  no- 
ess  of  the  South  Devon  Railway,  for  it  proved  a  coroplcte 
lUrc  so  far  as  the  atmospheric  tubes  were  concerned.  The 
wjustrurtion  of  the  line  cost  m-arly  double  the  estimate,  whereas 
tUc  revenue  fell  short  by  nenrlv  one-half.  The  gross  receipts 
Iparely  covereil  the  working  expensps ;  and  in  the  last  year  of  the 
aluiospheric  working,  the  expenditure  was  even  in  excess  of  (ho 
iacoin&  lo  April,  1^48,  by  which  time  many  railway  companies 
had  fallen  into  difficulties,  one  of  the  shareholders  described 
hiuuKlf  and  his  fellows  as  *the  most  unfortunate  proprietors  of 
the  most  unfortunate  railway  in  the  kingdom.'  The  great  cause 
of  failure  in  the  scheihe  was  the  imp(rs»ibility  of  maintjitning 
A  vacuum  iu  the  tulies.  It  will  scarcely  be  credited  that  the 
IKnrerful  engineer  was  boillMl  by  enemies  so  contemptible  as 
field-mice,  which  feasted  on  the  tallinv  atid  ate  away  the  leather 
which  formed  the  continuous  valve,  so  that  it  could  not  be  kept 
air-tight.  Kain,  frost,  and  stinsliine  also  acted  injuriously  on 
the  valve;  and  thouL'h  piittymen,  with  pots  and  spatulas,  followed 
ewh  train,  the  maintenance  td"  a  working  vacuum  was  found  tn 
be  impracticable.  The  result  was,  that,  after  a  loss  of  nearly 
half  n  million  in  muney^  the  aunospheric  tubes  were  all  pulled 
up  to  give  place  to  the  locomotive  engii»e.  The  fnilnre  of  the 
Khetne  wa*  a  wnirce  of  great  grief  to  .Mr.  Brunei.  He  was  nrady 
to  acknowledge  tlmt  he  had  ma<te  a  mistake,  which,  though 
dinsCrcHM  to  the  shareholders,  had  proved  ec|ual}y  so  to  himself. 

Unhappily, 


I 


Unhappily,  the  loss  to  the  company  did  not  end  with  the  rcmov 
of  the  tubes ;   fur,  owing  to  the  original  defective  construction 
of  tiie  niilwuy,  they  were  saddled  with  a  Une  o(  bad  working 
gradients  for  all  time  to  come. 

The  last  and  greatest  of  Mr.  Brunei's  cng^ineertng  aehieve- 
inents  in  connexion  n-ith  railways,  were  his  bridges  at  Cbe[>5tow 
and Saltasli, — the  one  to  carry  the  South  Wales  Railway  over  the 
Wye,  and  the  other  to  carry  tlic  Cornwall  RaiUvay  over  the 
Tomar.  The  latter  bridge  was  finally  oj>ened  by  Prince  Albert 
in  1859.  Both  sti-uctures  are  erected  on  the  same  principle, 
being  what  are  termed  'bowstring  girder'  bridges.  The  dimen- 
sions of  tlie  Saltasli  Viaduct  greatly  esceeil  tliose  of  tlie  Britannia 
bridge  over  the  Menai  Strait.  It  consists  of  nineteen  arches, 
seventeen  of  which  are  from  70  to  93  feet  span,  and  two  main 
central  spans  each  •155  feet  wide.  As  tn  the  cose  of  the  Britannia 
bridge,  the  riiovernnicnt  opposed  the  erection  of  any  structure 
that  should  offer  intemiptitui  to  the  navigation  of  tlie  Tamar ;  h 
atul  the  engineer  was  therefore  under  the  necessity  of  framing  his^J 
plans  so  as  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  case.  Hence  the  grand  ^ 
fc^nturc  of  the  Saltash  bridge,  which  consists  of  two  immense 
arclinl  tuU'S  »>f  wrought  iron,  snivimiiig  the  streain  ns  it  were  at 
one  gigantic  leap  of  ill^^  fi?et.  The  outer  ends  of  these  tubes  rest 
on  the  two  main  stone  piers  at  the  water's  edge,  and  tlicir  inner 
ends  on  a  columnar  pier  in  the  centre  of  the  river  hereafter  to  be 
described,  ^usjiension  chains  hang  down  from  the  summits  of 
these  piers  in  a  segment  of  a  circle,  supporting  the  roadway  to 
which  lliey  are  I»olted.  The  longituilinnl  l>cams  forming  the 
road  are  furtlier  supported  by  long-Hnktrtl  tension  chains  sus- 
pcmlcd  from  the  arched  tubes,  and  rendered  rigid  by  yertical 
struts  and  diagmtal  bracing.  The  chains  and  tubes  thus  act  as 
n  double  bow,  the  bridge  being  a  combination  of  the  tubular  and  h 
suspension  uiethtHls  of  construction,  possessing  the  strength  <>f^| 
the  former  with  n  saving  of  not  less  tlian  25  per  cent,  in  tlie  ' 
weight  of  iron  employeil.  An  idea  of  the  Cyelopi^an  character  of 
tlie  work  may  be  formed  fruni  the  fat:t  Uiat  each  of  tlie  tubes  from 
which  the  longitudinal  beams  are  suspendc<l,  weighs  upwards  of 
a  thousand  tons !  The  length  of  the  viaduct  and  bridge  is  nearly 
half  a  raile,  or  300  fi-ct  longer  than  the  Britannia  bridge. 

The  greatest  ilifliculty  which  Mr.  Biunel  had  t<)  encounter 
in  i.-arrying  out  this  great  work  was  in  securing  thtr  fnundntlons 
for  his  central  pier.  At  the  Menai  bridge  Mr.  Stephenson 
found  ready-made  foundations  for  his  main  tower  in  tbe  exposed 
Britannia  n>ck,  conveutentiv  situated  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the 
stntiL,  wltereiis  the  rock  on  which  the  central  pier  of  the  Saltash 
bridge  wus  founded  is  not  less  tJion  90  feet  beneath  the  surface — ■ 

the 


I 


d 


The  BrtmeU. 


33 


the  depth  of  water  boing  about  70,  and  of  mud  and  jC^vel  about 
20  feet.      The    founding;  of  a    solid    pier  at   so  ^reat  a  dt'ptb 
would  liavr  been  regTirded  as  allogellier  impracticable  less  thaii 
twenty  years  agt),  and   so  difBrult  a  feat  has  only  been  rendered 
pnssihli;  by  the  improved  expedients  of  practical  science.      The 
pn>ress  ailopltxl  by  Mr.  Ilrunel   was  similar  to   that  employed 
by  Mr.  Hughes  in  getting;  in  the  foundations  of  the  new  railway 
bridge  at  Rochester,'  but  on  a  much  more  furmidsble  scale.     An 
immense  wrought-ircin  cylinder,  37  feet  in  diameter  and  100  feet 
htj^h,  weighing  W^  tuns,  was  sunk  per|>endirular]y  orer  the  spot 
wlierf  it  was  intendiKl   tu  set  the  fuundatinns  uf  the  pier.      Fruin 
tliis  cylimier,  so  sunk,  the  water  was  partly  pumjicd  out  at  tho 
top  ;  after  which  the  process  was  reversed,  and  the  remaining 
w«ter  was  forced  out  at  the  bottom    bv  a  pneumatic  apparatus 
worked  by  a  slenm-imgine.      Uniler  this  se%'pre  prt-ssure  the  work- 
men were  enable*!  to   excavate  the  mud   and  gravel   to  a  great 
depth,  and  at  length  to  lay  the  foundations  uf  the  pii-r  upon  »iUil 
rock*   tK)  feet  beneath  the  surface  of  the  river.     'I'he  pressure 
under  which  the  men  worked  was  not  less  than  3H  lbs.  to  the 
inch;    nnil    although    many  of    them    wen*   seized   with    cramp, 
fainting,  and   insensibility,  aiul  one  man  suddenly  dieil  on   being 
first  subjeeled  to  it,  yet  when  tlieir  systems   luid   be<-ome   inurtHl 
to  the  work,  they  could  continue  the  excavation  witliin  the  cylinder 
for  several   hours  at  a   time  with  cum jKirati rely  slight  incunvc- 
nicncc.     At  la&t,  the  solid  column  of  granite  was  built  up  within 
the  tul»e,  ami  upon  it  were  set  the  four  iron  columns  of  the  central 
pier.      They   an?   i-arh    10  feet  In   diamtrter  and    100  feet  high, 
weighing  150  loiis  apiece,      'llie  nreetioii  nf  the  pier,  the  floating 
mill  raising  of  the  arched  tufw-s,  Uil-  ftxiAg  of  Uie  suspeiid«I  plat- 
form, involved  great  toil,  anxiety,  and  peril ;  but  the  whole  was 
ftt   length  satisfactorily    finished    after  about  six  years'  labour, 
and   the   bridge  opened   for    trntBc    In  1859.      Tlie  Saltash  via- 
duct is  confesseillv    uue  of  the  most  successful,   as  it  is  one  of  I 
the   most  economical   and  at  the  same   time  one  of  the  largest 
structun-s  of  the  kind  that  has  yet  been  erected. 

Like  his  father,  Mr.  Brunei  was  always  ready  with  au  expo- 
dirnt  to  meet  any  difiiculty  that  might  arise  in  the  exercise  of  nis 
pruleBsion,  though  his  range  of  uintrivancc  was  not  perhnpa  so 
gttait,  nor  his  ingenuity  of  so  original  u  character.  Thus,  during 
llip  Crimean  war,  he  Ment  out  lo  Turkev  to  organise  the  hospitals 
on  the  Dardanelles,  which  he  effected  with  emineut  ability,  and 
on  hb  return  to  Kngland  we  And  him  devising  an  iron-plated 


•  See  '  Qnancrly  ItL-rieir '  for  Jnlj,  18!k8,  art.  *  Iron  BridgM.' 

Vol.  112.— M».  aj.t.  D  armed 


armed  ship  capable  uf  withstamliiifi:  t]ie  fire  of  the  Sebastopol  forts. 
But  the  tlistiiiction  which  Mr.  Bi'uiicl  attained  as  a  naval  engi 
neor  was  I'riiicipally  in  connection  with  the  commercial  marine. 
lie  hiid,  like  his  fuUier,  early  turned  his  ;)ttention  to  the  improve- 
ment of  «ile.im-sliip5,  taking  an  active  part  in  man^  of  his  cxperi 
menu;  and    as  tlie  cnffinecr  of  the  Great  Western  Railway,    i 
was  natural  that  lie  shuuW  put  fortli  his  bi*st  efTnrts  to  render  itj 
western  tenniniis  at  Bristol  the  principal  slalioa  for  the  departure 
and  arrival  of  Transatlantic  steamers.      Only  a  few  years   before, 
the  practintbility  of  making  a  voyaf^e  to  New  York  by  steam  hnit 
been  strongly  disputed,  ami  Dr.  l^rdner  proved  to  his  own  satis 
faction  that  the  thing  was  impossible.      Kven  Sir  Marc  Brunei, 
though  very  snccuIatiTc  in  the  matter  of  stcara-boaLs,  when  re- 
iliiested   in  1824  to  allow  his  name  to  appear  as  superintending 
engineer  of  a  steamer   proposeil  to  be  built   for  the  purp(»sc  »' 
plying  to  find  from  tlie  West  Indies,  declined  on  the  ground  that, 
in  his  opinion,  ste:im  would  never  do  for  distant  navigation.     Vet 
after  tlir  lapse  ol  some  twelve  ycnrs  we  find  liis  son  constructing 
steam-shijys  cajjable  not  only  "f  making  a  voyage    to  the    West 
Indies,  but  to  the  .■\ntipodes— Ibn  '  Great  Brltnin  '  steamer  bein^ 
now  enpiged  in  plying  )>etwceii  l^ngland  ami  Australia. 

Mr.  Brunei  was  appointed  engineer  of  the  Steam->Ship  Com* 
panv  started  at  Bristol  in  1836,  ami  it  was  under  his  auspices  that 
the  'Great  Western/  propelled  by  paddle-wheels,  and  the  'Great 
Britain,'  propelled  by  a  strew,  were  there  constructed.  Both 
vessels  were  designed  and  built  by  Mr.  Patterson,  the  eminent 
Bristol  shipbuilder,  while  to  Mr.  Brunei  was  entrusted  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  motive  powi^r.  'Hie  si/-e,  not  less  than  the  efficiency 
of  these  vessels,  remlered  them  the  wonder  of  their  day.  Indeed, 
the  'Great  Western'  was  so  large,  that  when  finished  it  ¥ni» 
found  nei'essary  to  take  down  one  side  of  the  dock-entrance  to 
let  her  out  to  sea!  The 'Great  Britain,'  which  followed,  wag 
bigger  still,  being  in  respc*<-l  of  tonnage  double  tlie  size  of  hpf 
pre<iece.<(sor.  But  before  many  years  hod  passeil  tlicse  vessel 
were  themselves  thrown  into  the  shade  by  the  '  Great  Eastern,'' 


I 


*  CnptBiii  C.  [*.  Cu[r«  tuttntitted  his  plnnt,  nnet;  ulopted  in  Ibe  Ainericttn 
*  Mnoitor.'  to  Mr.  Knmtl  in  1S5A.  AOer  thoroaghlj  mi^rins  Into  iho  tnsitc«% 
explain  CoIm  Uvk.  '  hv  nMtir^il  t»«  tliat  I  lia<l  hit  on  the  right  thing,  and  gviie- 
nnixly  wlded  that  fa«  ho^l  himself  beoa  devj&inu  k  v<?m«L  lor  the  Mime  iiurpwe.  liut 
that  tiilnc  WBB  so  anpi-ricH'  to  his  nwn  he  shonlJ  ililnk  no  mnre  nf  It.  liv  did  uiorc 
Ih&n  tiiis— be  aMifticd  mv  in  my  caleulftiioa»,&Dd  gavf  nic  the  sid  of  bit  draught*- 
Bicu.  Wlicn  I  [ukc^l  him  wbftt  1  wgu  indebtiKl  in  him  for  thix.  he  said.  "  Noihicig," 
fbr  be  )iad  the  ^reati-st  pliiksiirc  in  helping  a  uaval  ofHii^r  «hn  was  Irving  to 
beuv'fil  hi*  couuirt .  I  tU:ill  ulwnys  rtfR)i;nili«r  his  gijuctvu*  <:(^iiduct  -,n  wvU  a*  his 
panic}:  words,  "<^  vg,  pcrsirvere,  and  jok  will  sacntcd."  Thv>'  bii*«-.  iiidred, 
oftfit  chc«reil  me  under  ib«  grt^ttrnt  A'tKunngtawniB.' —/'titer  in  /A«  ■  TTina.' 


The  Bnimh. 


85 


in  which  Mr.  Brunei  combined  the  powers  of  the  jwddie-wheel 
aatl  tlif  screw,  and  siiccertlinl,  with  llie  aid  of  Mr.  Scott  Riissetl, 
its  builder,  iii  hrini^ino:  In  rninpletion  ami  launching  the  larufst 
ship  thnl  has  ever  f!ctat(«t.  These  vessels  were  all  excellent  speci- 
mens of  steam-ship  ronstruction,  arul  though  they  mif^ht  embndj 
no  idea  Ahofrother  novel,  and  proved  failures  in  a  commercial  seme, 
it  is  unquestionable  that  they  exercised  much  influence  on  the 

KXjgTf-ss  of  steam  navigntion.  Tlie  *  Great  Eastern'  was  Mr. 
puiiel's  last  ^eat  eiiKineerin^  work,  and  tlicre  is  little  reason  to 
doubt  that  bis  health  was  seriously  undermined  by  the  -/.vaX 
and  anxiety  witlt  nliich  he  dcvDte<l  himself  to  it^  completion. 
By  a  lingular  coincidence,  he  went  on  board  the  Great  Ship  for 
the  last  time  on  the  very  first  day  when  it  could  be  said  slic  was 
ready  for  sea.  The  'Great  Eastern'  did  not,  however,  leave  her 
RiooriniLcs  for  another  week,  ilurin^  which  intor\-al  the  enpneer 
was  seized  with  imralysisf  and  he  expired  while  the  vessid  wjis 
moving  down  the  river  to  start  upon  her  calamitous  voyage  to 
Holyhcoil. 

Allhoufjh  Brunei  dietl  nt  tlie  com|janitivelv  enrlv  age  of  fifty- 
three,  it  ia  even  matter  <d' surprise  that  he  lived  so  hmy.  He  hiul 
more  perilous  escapes  from  violent  death  than  fall  tu  the  lot  of] 
moat  men.  We  have  seen  that  at  the  outset  of  his  career,  when 
acting  as  assislant-enpineer  to  his  father  in  the  Tliames  Tunnel, 
he  had  two  narrow  escapes  from  tln>wuing  by  the  river  suildenly 
buDittn^  in  upon  tlie  works.  Some  time  iifter,  wlu-n  insperting 
the  shal'ts  of  the  railway  tunnel  under  Dux  Hill,  he  was  one?  day 
riding  a  sluiguy  pmy  atarajiid  pacodown  the  hill,  when  the  animal 
stumbled  am^  fell,  pjtchint,'  the  engineer  on  his  head  with  gr^at 
violence:  be  was  taken  up  for  dead,  hut  eventually  recovered. 
When  the  Great  Western  line  was  finished  and  at  work,  he  uswl 
frei|ueitilv  to  rJde  upon  the  enjfine  with  Uh-  driver,  and  wcastonallv 
he  dnive  it  hiuis<:'lf.  One  day,  when  passing  through  the  Box 
tumiel  u]>on  the  engine  at  ciHisiderable  speeil,  Ilrunel  thought  he 
discerned  between  Kim  and  the  light  some  object  stinding  on  the 
same  line  of  road  along  which  his  engine  was  trarclling.  He 
inst&ntly  tnmcd  on  the  full  steam  and  dashed  nt  the  object,  which 
WBS  driven  into  a  tliousand  pieces.  It  aften^ards  lurnetl  out  tu  be 
a  fonlractor's  truck  wlileh  had  broken  loose  from  a  batlast^traJn 
tai  its  way  through  the  tunnel. 

Another  narrow  escape  which  ho  bad  was  on  board  the  'Great 
Western'  steam-ship,  where  he  fell  down  a  hatchway  into  the  hold, 
and  was  nearly  kiUetl.  But  the  mostcxtrnonJinarv  accirlent  which 
bcfel  him  was  tlial  which  oceurrtd  while  one  day  playing  with 
his  children.  Like  his  father  Sir  Marc,  he  was  fond  of  astonishing 
them  with  sleight-of-hand  tricks,  in  which  be  displayed  consider- 

D  2  ti>Ac 


able  dexterity ;  ami  tbe  (e&t  which  he  proposed  to  them  on  thi 
occasion  was  the  passitif^  of  a  half-sovereign  tbrouj;h  kls  moutl 
out  at  hid  4?ar.  Unfurtunaiely,  ho  swalluwed  the  coin,  whicl 
dropped  into  kia  windpi|K!.  'liic  accident  occurrwl  on  the  3rd  of 
Apru,  1843,  nnd  it  was  followed  bv  frequent  fits  of  coughing, 
and  occasional  uneasiness  in  the  right  ^ide  of  the  clicst ;  hut  so 
slight  WHS  the  disturbance  of  breatlutig,  that  it  was  for  some 
time  doubted  whether  the  coin  had  really  fallen  into  the  wind- 

Sipe.  After  the  lapse  of  fifteen  days,  Sir  licnjamin  Krodie  met 
It.  Key  in  cousultmiou,  and  they  concurretl  in  the  npinion  that 
most  probably  the  half-sovereign  w^s  hwlged  at  the  lH)tlom  of  tlic 
right  bronflius.     Tlie  dav  after,  Mr.  Hrunel  plactsl  hlinsrlf  In  a 

(irone  position  on  his  lnf:e  upim  sonic  ithairs,  and,  bending  bis 
load  and  neck  downwards,  lie  <listinrtly  felt  the  coin  drop 
towards  the  glottis.  A  violent  cough  ensued,  ami  on  resuming 
the  erect  posture  he  felt  as  if  the  object  again  nuivcd  dnwiiward»^| 
into  the  chesl.  1 1  ere  was  an  enginei^riug  difTuTulty,  the  like  of^l 
which  Mr.  nnincl  had  never  befciri?  encountered.  The  mischief 
was  purely  mechanical ;  a  foreign  body  Itad  got  into  his  breathing 
apparatus,  and  must  be  removed,  if  at  all,  by  some  mechanical 
expedient.  Mr.  Brunei  was,  however,  rqiial  fo  ihi;  orca.sion. 
He  had  nn  a])|>aTatiis  ennstnicled,  consisting  of  a  iilntfann  which 
moved  ujion  a  lunge  in  the  centre.  Upon  this  hi-  had  hinisi'lf 
strnpjwd,  an<l  liis  body  was  tlien  invertwl  in  order  that  tlie  coin 
might  drop  fhiwnwanl  hy  its  own  weight,  and  so  be  expelled. 
At  the  first  experiment  the  coin  again  slipped  towards  the  glottis, 
but  it  caused  such  an  alarming  fit  of  convulsive  coughing  and 
appearnncT  of  choking,  that  danger  was  apprehritded,  and  tlie 
exiKTiniciit  was  «liscniuinup<l.  Two  days  afti-r,  on  the  25lb,  the 
oj»<'ratioii  of  tmrheotomv  was  jHirformed  by  Sir  BL-njamin  Brodie, 
assisted  by  Mr.  Key,  with  the  intf!iilioo  of  extracliitg  the  cuiu  by 
the  forceps,  if  jiossible.  Two  attempts  to  do  so  were  made  without 
success.  The  introduction  of  the  forceps  into  the  windpipe  on 
the  second  occasion  was  attended  with  so  excessive  a  dcgrn'e  of 
irritation,  that  it  was  felt  the  experiment  ctnild  not  be  conlinued 
without  imminent  danger  tfi  life.  7*lie  incision  in  the  windpipe 
was,  however,  kept  open,  bv  means  of  a  (juill  or  tube,  until  the 
13th  of  May,  by  which  time  Mr.  Brunei's  strength  had  suf- 
ficiently recovered  to  enable  tlie  original  exjwriment  to  be 
repeated.  Me  was  again  gtmppeil  to  his  apparatus;  his  body 
was  inverted ;  his  Imek  was  struck  gently  ;  and  he  distinctly 
felt  the  coin  quit  itii  place  on  the  right  side  uf  his  chest.  The 
opening  in  the  windpipe  allowed  him  Ui  breathe  while  the  thrcwt 
was  stopped  by  the  coin,  and  it  thus  had  the  effect  of  pre- 
venting   the    spusmu<Uc    action    of   tlic    glottis.      Alter   a    few 

coughs 


Tiie  BrumU, 


37 


cnui^bs  tliP  roin  ilroppccl  into  his  mouth,  ^\t.  Brand  used 
aftrrtvanls  ti>  say  that  tlie  moment  when  he  heani  the  gold  piece 
strikn  ajpiJnst  his  upper  front  teeth,  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
cxqui&ilc  in  his  wholi^  life.  The  half-iiovpreigTi  liarl  Ix^n  in  his 
windpipe  for  not  less  than  six  weeks. 

Tlieri!  can  he  no  <jue3tiou  as  to  Mr.  Brunei's  accomplished 
akill  anil  energy  as  an  engineer.  His  life  showed  that  he  was  & 
man  cijiabh!  of  grappling  with  the  most  diflicult  enterprises. 
Imlts^l,  ]u-  sM-ined  U*  luve  diflirultics  s»)  much  that  he  not  unfre- 
quently  chose  the  most  difiicult  mauncr  of  overcoming  them. 
Whatever  was  fullest  of  engineering  perils  had  the  greatest 
L-liarrasi  for  him.  Tluit  which  was  easy  was  compnrntivcly  unin- 
tiTcstiug,  and  its  exerution  could  lie  matter  of  siir]iris(!  to  no  one. 
In  other  haiuU  the  rnnstTitrtinn  of  a  milway  hc^wtirn  Lonilon 
and  Bristol  wuuhl  probably  have  l>een  ax  uninti-resting  us  that  of 
the  Eastern  Counties.  But  in  Mr.  Bnmel's  the  Great  Western 
Railway  bcramc  the  subject  of  animated  controversy  in  and  i>ut 
of  Parlinnient  for  years.  A  Royal  Commission  sat  up«Ki  its 
^■Blcrptional  gauge ;  engineers,  philosophers,  nmtors,  and  |mmph* 
■wtcCTS,*  ranged  themselvps  on  iipjHisit*--  sides ;  and  Uie  Great 
Wc*tem  line  thus  gained  an  extraordinary  prominence  in  the 
railway  world. 

Xotwiilistanding  Mr.  Bruncrs  great  engineering  akill,  it  is 
to  be  douhti"*!  whether  he  possessed  much  of  tin?  genius  of  an 
ortginat  inventor.  He  took  up  a  principle  already  estublished, 
and  pu&he<l  It  furtluT,  exhibiting  in  a  striking  light  the  develop- 
ment of  vfhich  the  ideas  uf  others  were  capable.  His  ruling  idea 
wa»  magnitude;  he  liad  an  ambition  to  make  everything  bigger 
don  he  bad  found  it.  Thos  he  found  the  railway  gauge  4  feet 
8J  inches,  and  he  increased  it  to  seven  feet,  tlierrby  iavnlving 
wider  tmuicls,  more  expensive  works,  and  a  heavier  equipineiit 
in  working  Ktock.  S»  in  the  atinmphcric  railway,  he  found  the 
tube  in  use  on  the  Datkey  railway  fifteen  inches  in  diameter, 
and  i>n  the  South  Devon  line  he  doubled  it.  Then  in  steam- 
ships, his  *  Great  Western'  was  nearly  double  the  power  and 
tcmnoge  of  an\  previous  stenmirr ;  the  'Great  Britain,*  which 
followed,  was  double  the  tonnage  of  the  'Great  Westeni  ;'  and 
the  '  Great  ICastern*  exceeded  in  size  all  that  the  most  imaginative 
shipbuilder  had  ronceiveil  to  be  possible.  It  was  a  race  of 
bignc&s  run  against  himself  as  well  as  others.    But  in  the  case  of 


*  It  «u  opoo  thU  oc<^&ion  that  Mr.  Benry  Lndilnglon,  a  nan  of  nn  gifts, 
paUiihetl  two  pkoipbleu  iu  fuvour  of  ibe  broad  ^uge,  whifh,  as  hiE  biofrrsphnr 
trul;  uuea.  «ert;  r«|(unli-<l  hv  all  who  read  iben  on  utsslcrpircM  of  cnntroviM>ial 
and  fortnaic  BWIitjr.  See  *  Tliv  ItnlisnWar,  *c:  Three  Kfitsfs.  by  Uie l»t« Huur) 
LfubinftOB,  will)  »  ^ognphicai  Prelkoe  by  U.  S.  V«nnbli».'    Csinbrklgr.  18S9. 

the 


ad  The  Bnittd*. 

the  '  Gruat  ICnsu^m '  steam-ship,  as  of  the  Great  Western  Railway 
it  is  uot  pnibablc  tbut  Mr.  Hruiiei's  example  will  be  followeil ; 
for  it  is  now  pretty  well  uDilerstood  that  sliips,  like  rnilwajs, 
mB}'  be  nmde  /oo  big,  at  least  for  thuse  who  own  them. 

N\itwtth5tniidiiijr  thi-  want  of  success  which  utteoded  Mr. 
Bruiit-'l's  priiicijuil  uiidertakliiK,  he  was  well  supporlirtl  throughout 
bv  the  monied  interest.  The  shareliolders  in  tlie  rjrpat  Western 
Hatlwav  not  only  readily  found  the  capital  which  he  required  lo 
carry  out  his  splendid  ideas  with  reference  to  that  line,  bat  they 
presented  him  with  a  handsome  testimonial  in  acknowledgment 
of  his  genius.  Tliough  the  '  Oreat  Western '  ste»ra-ship  pn>vcd  a 
commercial  fnilure,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  findincf  capitalists  to 
enable  iiim  to  buiUI  tlie  'Great  Britiin'  at  h  still  greater  sncrifice; 
and  still  again,  to  project  and  bring  to  completion  his  magnificent 
idea  of  tlie  '  Great  Eastern  '  stcnm-ship.  But  for  Mr.  Brunei's 
personal  tjualitiw,  this  re-establishment  of  confidence  in  liim 
after  repcatetl  failures  had  not  been  possible.  His  idens  were 
always  of  the  grandest  kind,  for  he  was  a  man  of  lively  imagination, 
and  his  de-signs  were  such  as  readily  to  iJike  ]>eople  c-aptivc.  He 
was  the  very  Napoleon  of  engineers,  tliiukiog  more  of  glory 
than  of  profit,  and  of  victory  than  of  dividends.  He  would  do 
everything  on  the  most  splendid  scale,  and  was  alike  ambitious 
of  making  the  best  jmssibte  stcani-slup  and  the  best  possible 
railway.  Even  capitalists  wore  fire<l  by  his  enthusiasm,  and 
subscril>p<i  to  his  projects  freely.  Moreover  he  believe*!  in  them 
hinuelf,  and  was  perfectly  in  earnest  when  advocating  them 
amongst  lus  friends.  While  asking  otliers  to  subs(.-ribc,  he  did 
not  himself  hold  back;  but  put  his  own  savings  alike  into  his 
atmospheric  milw.-iy  and  his  'Great  Eastern'  steamer.  It  is  true 
he  greatly  exccedetl,  in  most  cases,  the  estimates  on  the  titrengtli 
of  which  sharcliolders  were  induced  to  subscribe  capital  to  his 
undertakings.  But  this  is  a  common  fault  on  ihe  part  of  modem 
engimx?rs;  and  it  is  one  to  which  the  elder  Brunei  was  himself 
obnoxious : — 

*  It  hoH  liecn  made  matter  of  consuro,*  nTitoe  Mr,  Bojunish,  *  that 
llmncl  never  ndhurwl  to  an  original  ostimatc.  The  charge  was  urged 
at'  on  early  period  by  tho  Govommont,  and  mora  or  lose  ocbodd  \ij 
uiiltviduuht  ovfir  ufler ;  but  this  charge  can  scarcely  bo  considered  just. 
Ill  ninny  int^ttuiccs  those  who  consulted  Bmnel  had  such  limited  con- 
ceptions of  their  own  roquironientR,  that  thuy  wuro  led  to  anticipate  a 
oom*ponding  limit  in  Ihn  cost  of  tlie  wtirk  which  they  souglit  to  bavo 
performed;  but  ^vlitrc.  with  JBrunol,  oxoelleuce  was  tho  object,  his 
snggwtlvo  uud  comprehensive  mind  adduced  an  cxiiaitiuon  ^of  ideas  in 
hill  imiployerB,  ami,  uri  ii  mnRniHiciieo,  a  desire  tct  realise  rcRults  which 
they  noT(;r  cnuld  hsvo  contemplated.  These  enlarged  views  demanded 
ftirthor  thoughts  and  more  olabonito  designs,  but  going  so  fiir  beyond 

the 


WW    ^1 


Sussex.  39 

the  original  notions,  they  left  an  impression  of  Brunol's  extravagance : 
when,  however,  the  real  object  was  to  secnre  completeueEB,  then  were 
the  saggeetions  of  Brunei  accepted  in  all  their  integrity,  mthout  dis- 
appointment or  regret.' 

Such  an  explanation  as  this  may  be  satisfactory  to  engineers, 
but  it  cannot  be  otherwise  than  exasperating  to  shareholders,  who 
find  they  have  to  pay  so  much  more  for  their  finished  undertaking 
than  they  originally  bargained  for ;  and  when  an  engineering 
estimate  turns  out  to  be  a  delusion,  as  it  often  does,  it  is  very 
natural  to  suspect  that  it  was  originally  intended  as  a  snare.  In 
the  case  of  Brunei,  however,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  the  good 
faith  of  the  engineer ;  if  shareholders  suffered,  he  suffered  with 
them.  The  public  at  large  have  certainly  no  ground  of  com- 
plaint; for  it  is  unquestionable  that  both  railway  travelling  and 
steam  navigation  were  greatly  advanced  by  the  speculative  ability 
of  Mr.  Brunei,  and  the  spirit  and  liberality  with  which  he  was 
supported  by  the  shareholders  of  the  great  undertakings  for  which 
he  acted  as  engineer. 


Art.  II. — 1.  Sussex  ArduBological  Collections,  1846-1861. 

2.  The  Seaboard  and  the  Doum.     By  an  Old  Vicar.     1860. 

3.  Handbook  for  Travellers  in  Kent  and  Sussex.     1858/ 

SUSSEX,  or,  as  the  name  denotes,  the  land  of  the  South 
Saxons,  has  seen  changes  as  strange  as  any  of  our  counties. 
It  is  difficult  to  approach  in  idea  to  what  it  must  have  been  just 
eighteen  centuries  ago,  when  three  parts  of  it  were  an  imper- 
vious forest,  inhabited  by  our  painted,  half-naked  forefathers ; 
when  the  sea  washed  hills  which  have  long  since  become  sur- 
rounded by  dry  land,  and  fields,  now  the  glory  of  the  husband- 
man, teemed  with  ocean  life,  and  when  many  an  acre,  now  covered 
by  the  waves,  formed  part  of  the  English  soil.  Imagination  sees 
St.  Paul  here,  as  at  Athens,  finding  altars  to  unknown  gods, 
and  declaring  Him  whom  we  *  ignorantly  worshipped.'  His 
'  Pudens,'  who  *  saluted '  Timothy,  was  not  impossibly  the  courtier 
of  a  Sussex  viceroy,  as  his  '  Claudia '  may  have  been  the  fairest 
of  Sussex  virgins.*     Whatever  may  be  said  of  Professor  Airy's 

opinion 

•  We  have  already  ('  Quarterly  Review,'  vol,  xcvii.)  narrated  the  Sussex  legend 
of  Claudia  and  Pudens,  and  have  given  a  f^ll  account  of  the  curious  inscription, 
found  at  Chicbester  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  which  forms  so  important 
a  link  in  the  chain  of  possibilitieR  by  which  the  story  haups.  Authentic 
lliatory  does  not  inform  us  whether  St.  Paul  ever  landed  in  the  IJritish  isles,  but 
■ome  have  thought  that  the  Pudens  mentioned  in  his  Epistle  to  Timothy  was 
the  tenator  of  that  name,  in  whose  house  St.  Peter  li*eu  and  tanght  at  Komc, 

and 


40 

opiniun  thnt  OcMr  twice  IuthIccI  on  tljc  sliuix's  ul  Sussex,  Hi*' 
iory  dimlv  sccth  Ves|m.Hiaii  subjugating  it^  auvage  tribes,  making 
lU'gamn,  tlie  future  Cliii-lieslfr,  his  head-<|uartcr9 ;  and  three 
);rval  Roman  roails,  nidi  tlieir  military  stations,  traversing  t3ie 
length  and  hrradth  of  the  district,  whilst  its  'high  hills'  bristled 
with  eartlnvnrks  and  encampments. 

Descending  tn  Saxon  times,  we  might  tell  hnw  the  county 
became  an  indeiwndeiit,  though  the  smallest,  kingdom  of  the 
Heptarchv,  and  bi>w  it  imssesseil  a  line  of  princes  of  its  own, — 
of  which  il^lla,  who  landed  here,  as  Hengist  and  Horsa  tlid  in 
Kent,  may  be  accepted  as  the  tbiimier. — till  it  became  merged  by 
Ceadwalia  in  its  powerful  western  neighljour  Wcssex,  whose  king, 
Eghert,  united  Englanil  under  his  consolidating  rule.  We  iniglit 
dwell  on  the  great  doubtful  battle-field  of  Mercredpslioume,  in 
which  j'Klia  finally  pushed  the  Britons  eastwards- — ^could  v/a  tell  onr 
readers  where  it  was,  or  give  them  any  more  satisfactory  inforina- 
tion  regarding  Its  name  than  that  it  was  ]>robabIy  at  a  ri\ii!et 
between  Eastljoume  and  Birling  fSap,  eallp<l  after  one  Mercredc 
— and  we  might  dilate  on  the  siege  and  stonn  of  the  strong  old 
citv  Anderidn,  the  site  of  which,  although  now  fixetl  witli  all 
but  certainty  at  I'evensev,  has  hacn  claimofl  by  no  less  than 
seven  Sussex  towns.  Later,  we  may  glance  with  more  of  historic 
confidence — though  not  even  here  without  some  admixture  of 
legendary  exaggeration — at  Bishop  Wilfrid,  whose  beauty  arrested 
the  arm  of  the  executioner  who  had  lieheaded  by  his  side  DeU 
finus,  Bishop  of  Lyons, — -Wilfrid,  now  nlt-irkrtl  by  Sussex 
wreckers,  and  now  avenging  himself  on  the  inhospitable  ]mgfuis 
l>y  converting  them  to  Christianity  ;  at  gnml  King  Kdilwalch 
too  and  his  wife  Eaba,  who  granted  seven  hides  of  land  at  Selsey 
for  an  endowment  of  the  first  Sussex  bishopric.  Later  still,  we 
learn  hnw  Karl  fiodwln  olitaiufd  the  broad  atTes  of  Bo»liam  ; 
and  hi>w  Harold  niaile  them  his  liomr,  and  dieil  ghirioiisly  on 
*the  Battaile  field;'  how  William  11,  investcfl  Fevensey  ;  how 
the  Empress  Maud  was  received  at  Arundel  Castle  by  Adcliza 
the  Queen  Dowager;  how  the  great  battle,  in  which  Henry  III, 
was  comph'tely  defrateil  by  his  Barons,  was  fought  at  l^wrs,  and 
hv-und-by  the  *  Impiisitionsof  relmU  '  wrrehehl  ;  and  then  how  the 
county  grew  more  loyal,  and  n)val  progresses  in  it  tMM:amc  rife; 
liow  Henry  the  Eighth  was  entertaiiie<l  at  Michelgrove,  Edward 
the  Sixth  at  I'etwortli,  {.^leen  Elizabeth  at  C'owdray,  and  George 
the  First  at  Stanstcad ;  how  badly  it  bred  in  the  days  of  the 

and  whose  enrnk  rliAir  of  ivoiy  sod  gold  ta  slil)  prrfrrred  trjtlitn  ibe  great  ihrtiM 
oT  broiiic,  Kjr  Ijemini,  in  St.  Petrr't  ehurcli.  1'lii<  in<i-nr»liiig  rt-lic  is  ktxiwn  liy 
ihi!  iiaiiH-  of  St.  Pci^r'n  Choir.  Its  exlstcnor  tm  deaiwl  swac  years  ogo  by  Ladj 
Morgan,  «bo  wrol«  s  loug  paipcr  on  the  mbjeci. 

Great 


I 


I 


SUMIX. 


41 


I  cndc 
■Ken 

flock 


Great  Rebellion  with  many  a  loyal  Sussex  town  and  furtross ; 
and  fauw,  in  ourowndavs,  Brijrhton  has  risen  to  prosperity  umlcr 
ro^-al  patronage. 

A$  regards  the  clinrartpristics  of  Sussex, — altlinu^h  it  haH 
Qcvtr  ried  wiUi  Xiirlhamptonsliire  in  the  beauty  of  its  cliiirrbiTs, 
nor  witli  Leicc-sturshin-  in  \hr.  richnpss  of  its  pastures — lliouj^li  it 
cannot  comparts  with  Hampshirp  in  its  trout-stroams,  nor  with 
Lincolnshire  and  Norfolk  in  their  princely  farms — though  it  luis 
DO  SnoH'dnn,  no  Grassmere  or  Ulleswater — yet  it  possesses  fiii- 
tUrL'8 peculiarly  its  own.  Petwortli  for  a  subject's  imlacp,  .Arundel, 
Lewes,  and  IVvensi'V  for  friulal  fortresses,  Rattle  ami  l!a\liain  fur 
venerable  abbeys,  Cowdray  and  Up  Parks  for  svKaii  WautVi 
may  not  eagiiy  be  matched.  Xo  other  county  caji  show  such  an 
ejctent  of  sea-board  frinjjed  with  such  an  acreage  of  rich  alluvial 
soil,  sucii  forests  of  onk,  and  birch,  and  beech,  such  delicious 
aplauds,  and  liill-side  st^'nery.  No  counts  has  ^^ivcn  htrth  to  a 
TBce  of  inon?  intrepiil  mariners,  of  hardirr  shepherds,  of  more 
oularing  lituiliaudmen.  When-  dsr  will  you  find  such  snug 
csteadg,  and  such  picluresque  I'armhouses,  w  ith  their  quaint 
Ics  and  deep  dark  roofs  of  Horsham  tiles  ?  Its  many 
ocks  and  henls — the  carrent  coin  of  patriarchal  times — lead 
OS  back  ti>  the  first  ag^s  of  9i>rietv,  and  invest  it  »'it]i  a  dia- 
meter of  primeval  simplicity.  Anil  nlUiough  it  has  now  fallen 
behind  in  manufactures,  its  iroi>-f(Huulries  and  >^lass-housei  for 
many  years  gave  an  impulse  to  an  extensive  and  thriving  trade. 
Even  now  its  furnaces  have  left  themselves  impreswMl  in  the 
conntV  nomcnclatnre:  in  many  parts  we  meet  with  'hammer- 
poods'  to  remind  us  oftlte  *  incessant  noise' — a  striking  contrast 
certainly  Ut  their  present  Milituile — 'which  night  and  day.' as 
Camden  tells  us,  '  echoed  all  over  Uie  neigh Ihiur hood,  when  the 
meadows  were  converted  into  lakes  and  pools  to  turn  mills,  to 
move  hammers  to  work  iron.'  Its  eastern  parts  alxmiul  in  iron- 
itoae.  The  Imluatrades  around  St.  Paul's  were  made  of  Lamber- 
burst  iron  ;•  and  die  first  iron  cannon  tliat  were  ever  cast  in 
England  ranic  from  tite  furnaces  of  Buxteil.  But  its  great  woods, 
which  serveil  for  fuel,  were  not  inexliaiistihle ;  nor  did  the  private 
profit  f»>untervajl  the  public  loss  occasioned  bydicir  destniclion.t 
Pit-conl  began  to  be  supplied  in  the  Nortli  in  infinite  qunntities 
and  at  less  expense  :  tlicn  uprose  the  great  national  establlsliments 
of  Laurnishire  and  Yorkshire:  the  trade  of  the  county  fell  off, 
ftod  with  it  the  pipulatiou.     The  parish  registers— there  was  ou 


*  Half  of  Lanbcrhunt  is  In  Saisex, 
t  *  Wiieu  iwdcr  public  ptod  hoae  priTste  gaiu  takes  hold« 
Aud  ve,  iM)or  voful  woodi,  to  ruin  lsMl>  suld.' 

Ihvutm,  •  PolyolUon,'  the  ITth  Song. 

census 


I 


ceiuui  then— show  that,  between  1630  .-mil  1700,  it  Uwiadlcii 
from  131,WX>  to  98,000.  In  1851  the  population  amounted  to 
upwards  of  336,000. 

'J'hc  county  is  not  without  it^  g^rcat  names  in  Church  ami 
State.  In  Sussex  were  bred  or  born  John  Peckhnni,  Kuljerl 
Winchelsey,  Tboraos  Bnulwardine,  Tliomas  Anmdi!ll,  and 
William  .luxon  :  of  no  other  county  cin  it  Iw  said,  obacrved 
Fullor,  tliat  it  luis  sent  forth  five  Archbishops  of  Canterbury. 
To  Sussex  also  we  owe  a  divine,  who  would  have  been,  hud  lie 
lived,  a  worthy  leader  of  the  iirijrlisU  Church — Hugh  .Tiinuis 
Hose,  Principal  of  King's  College,  London,*  whose  sliiut  heart, 
ami  wise  hear!,  and  eloquent  tongue,  the  CThurrh  has  sorely 
misM'd  during  the  struggles  and  difliculties  and  errors  of  recent 
years.  Sir  Kdward  Dalyngnige,  the  founder  of  liodiam  Castle, 
was  present  at  Crccy  and  Poitiers,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
successful  'knigbls  adventurers'  of  bis  time.  Thomas  Sack- 
villc,  Barun  BurklnirsI,  the  pnet  and  diplomatist,  was  Lord  m 
High  Treasurer,  8ir  J.  JrfTery  Chief  Panm,  and  Sir  William  ^M 
Pelliam  uf  Laugblon  thi;  irJsh  ("hicf  Justice^  to  Elizabeth.  ^ 
John  SeUlen  in  himself  is  worth  a  host;  Edward  Giblwn  lies 
burietl  at  Fietchiiig,  under  a  mausoleum  erected  by  his  friend 
Lord  Shcflield  ;  and  the  pious  L«'ighton  at  Horsted  Keviies. 
Shelley  was  bom  at  Field  Place.  Sir  Edward  Sugden,  now  Jj>rd 
Sl  Leonards,  whosi;  brief  chancellorship  will  not  lie  rradily 
forgothtn,  residnl  near  the  foiTst  from  which  he  lakes  his 
title.  In  SiisM*!  alsofsayK  Lord  Campbell)  ex-Chancellor  Erskine 
*  bought  an  estate,  which  turned  out  an  unfortunate  speculation, 
for  it  produced  nothing  but  stunted  birch-trcca,  and  was  found 
irriK'tainiable,'  Nor  do  tlir  ten  Pr<itesLaiits  burnt  at  one  fire 
at  Lewes,  and  scventrt'n  at  other  plan-s,  during  the  epis- 
copacy of  Bishnp  Christopht-raon,  of  whom  Fuller  quaintly  ^_ 
observes,  that  though  *he  had  much  of  Christ  in  his  name  he  ^M 
bad  none  of  Him  in  his  nature,'  less  deserve  a  place  among  ^^ 
the  worthies  of  the  county.  The  tlirce  bnithers  Shirley  to(^ 
of  Wiston,  were  famous  in  their  generiilioii,  luid  tlieir  adven- 
turer the  adiiiiriitiou  of  (Hiristendom ;  Anthony,  whom  we 
find  successively  in  opposite  quarters  of  the  globe — in  Africa, 
Jamaica,  and  Persia,  and  Russia,  in  Germany,  and  Morocco, 
— and  occupying  a  diplomatic  position  in  every  court  in  Europe : 
Robert,  who  strove  to  establish  commercial  relations  with  Persia, 
•ind  whoso  fine  portnut,  bv  Vamlvkc,  adorns  tlie  Petworth 
collection  ;  and  Thonia&,  iniprisomvl  at  Coitstnntinoj)le,  and  ^M 
in    the   Tower,    then   bankrupt   and    heart-broken,   and    selling  ^M 

*  Horn  St  Uttle  Hont«<],  179S ;  i\ei  I83S.  ^ 

Wiston 


• 


d 


Sussex.  43 

Wiston  to  pay  his  creditors.  In  few  counties  moreover  have  the 
preat  places  changed  hands  seldomer.  The  Howards  and  the 
Sackvilles,  the  Fienneses,  the  Pelhams  and  the  Ashbumhams,  the 
Percys  and  the  Montagues,  have  been  for  many  generations  the 
lords  of  the  soil,  and  inseparably  identified  with  Arundel  and 
Buckhurst,  with  Hurstmonceux,  Stanmer,  and  Laughton,  with 
Ashbumham,  Petworth,  and  Cowdray. 

We  have  said  that  Sussex  cannot  vie  with  other  counties  in  .the 
beauty  of  its  churches.  Yet  let  not  its  pretensions  be  under- 
rated. If  deficient  in  some  of  the  seven  periods  of  the 
ecclesiologists,*  it  is  fruitful  in  undoubted  Saxon  specimens ; 
and  the  Lancet  is  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  parochial 
chajicels.  The  Western  division  is  said  to  contain  more 
examples  of  this  than  any  other  county.  Take  as  specimens 
of  the  first  (1066-1145)  Worth,  with  its  external  stringcourse 
masonry  supported  by  pilasters,  which  gives  us  probably 
the  most  complete  ground-plan  extant  of  any  Saxon  church ; 
and  Sompting  and  Bosham;  of  the  latter  (1190-1245),  Climp- 
ing  and  Ditehling,  parts  of  West  Tarring,  and  Fletching,  with 
its  graduated  nave.  Old  and  New  Shoreham,  Steyning,  and 
Newhaven,  almost  a  copy  of  Yainville  sur  Seine,  and  unique  for 
its  eastern  apse,  projecting  from  the  tower,  without  any  inter- 
mediate chancel,  are  fine  specimens  of  the  Norman ;  as  are  of 
the  Transitional,  Piddinghoe  and  parts  of  Broadwater,  Eastbourne 
and  Bishopstone,  with  its  baluster -windowed  tower.  In  the 
Geometrical,  ranging  from  1245  to  1315,  and  the  Perpendicular 
(1360-1550),  the  county  is  undoubtedly  poor ;  yet  even  here  it  can 
boast,  in  the  former  period,  of  Pevensey,  and  St.  Thomas  at  Win- 
chelsea,  with  its  fine  Aland  tombs ;  and  in  the  latter,  of  Arundel 
and  Pulborough,  Poynings,  with  its  central  tower,  and  Mayfield, 
which  St  Dunstan,  according  to  the  popular  superstition,  shoul- 
dered into  its  proper  *  orientation ;'  whilst  in  the  curvilinear 
(1315-1360),  it  has  produced  Etchingham  (built  by  Sir  W.  de 
Etehingham)  and  Alfriston.  The  dates  and  styles  of  the  Sussex 
churches  may  be  thus  classified ;  it  is  more  difficult  to  group 
them,  as  regards  their  materials,  forms,  and  contents.  Thus,  in 
some  parts  of  the  county,  we  find  them  built  of  flints  and  chalk, 
in  others  of  sandstone,  and  in  some  wholly  of  shingle.  In  some 
we  have  them  cruciform,  in  some  the  totoers  are  round,  in  some 
the  apses,  whilst  in  the  eastern  division  spires  are  more  frequent, 
'to  enable  them,'  it  is  said,  *to  be  seen  above  the  woods.' 
Generally  they  consist  of  nave,  chancel,  and  west  tower,  but  in 


*  See  Willis's '  Architectural  History  of  Chichester  Cathedral.' 

some 


some  the  tower  is  central ;  in  a  few  casteni,  while  several  ntUI  a 
nnrth  ami  south  transept,  and  some  cithrr  a  north  or  stiutJi  aislc^ 
or  both.  Sliiiipled  slix'ples  are  a  general  feature- 
Few  tracts  {>re:ient  siieh  neencs  of  iiitcrcal  for  tlie  onittholofrtft 
as  the  rlipcrless  flats  of  I'affhani,  or  the  levels  of  Pe%'enscy.  Not 
to  mentino  the  ffnind,  heroic  caple-owls  of  Arurwlpl ;  tir  the  stntclj 
heronrv  at  Parham ;  or  the  raven's  ehimp  at  Petwortli ;  or  that 
tiatnty  inors(!l,  the  unsociable  whi-atear,  nevirr  sueu  to  fliiek,  aliU 
never  met  with  wtsit  of  Anin,  or  ihr;  inultitu<le  of  other  migratory 
binl^  whoKf  inarveltuus  instincts  :uid  annual  habits  may  be  better 
noticed  here  than  sinywUerL'  else — wliat  strange  visitors  of  un- 
common plumage  may  not  here  be  met  with !  11  Mr.  Maikwick 
lias  hern  loo  san^ine  !ii  reckoning  golden  eafflesi  auiunj;  Oie 
number,  at  least  the  sen  engU-  lias  been  seen  or  taken  at  lloUy- 
comlx>,  Kottin^dean,  and  Peveiise^.  That  |>;rand  bird  the  great 
bustard  can  hardiv  be  said  to  have  been  long  extinct,  for 
Gilltert  White  liimsolfobser\'ed  it  on  the  I^>wn» ;  and  fivc-and- 
twenty  years  uy;o  it  was  undoubtedly  seen  at  Bhilehinjirlon  ;  wbile» 
of  the  Falamiiliif  the  merlin  in  the  vast  woods,  the  hobby  on  the 
vaster  bleak  sen-sliingle,  and  tlie  peregrine  in  the  cliOk,  arc  common 
denizens.  Ami  who  shall  number  the  Natalores:  the  ospreys and 
the  jfolden-eye*,  the  hoopers  and  brent-gccsc,  the  poclianls  and 
scaup-ducks,  which  llie  liard  winter  presses  periodically  into  the 
great  fewliiig-grounds  and  quiet  restiiig-placi-s  of  Piigham?  Lei 
us  go  for  theif  to  thtr  fascinating  |>iigL-s  of  Mr.  Knox,  and  bold 
our  breath  as  we  leani  to  ^.talk  them  un<ter  his  guidance. 

Sussex  has  never  lacked  faitliful  men  of  letters  to  do  her 
lioDOUr.  Among  her  antiquaries  the  palm  must  undoubtetUy  be 
awarded  to  Sir  VVillinm  Burrcll.  As  we  turn  over  those  fifteen 
folio  volumes  of  MSS.  which  he  bequcntlied  to  the  British 
Museum,  we  actually  seem  to  have  before  us  all  tlie  indentures, 
I»«ligrees,  ami  mnitorial  records  wliich  the  county  could  ever  have 
pMscssdl.  Mr.  Dftllaway,  Mr.  Cirtwright,  and  Mr.  Tierney  have 
laboured  skilfully  in  the  .^ame  cause;  Mr.  Horsfield  has  written 
on  the  entire  county ;  whilst  Mr.  Hlaauw's  and  Mr.  Lower's  con- 
tributions on  dptached  county  subject*,  hut  of  more  than  local 
interest,  are  very  profitable  reading:  we  know  of  nothing  more 
pleasantly  told  than  the  •  Kaitlc  of  Hastings'  bv  the  latter.  The 
works  which  staml  at  tin*  head  of  our  article  furnish  still  more 
recent  evidence  of  the  interest  which  Sussex  topography  and 
arcbawlogy  Kscitr.  The  *  Collections*  of  the  Sussex  Arcba?o!o- 
gical  S<K:irty  now  exti-nd  lo  thirteen  goodly  octavo  vt>himes.  Tliey 
are  among  the  best  and  mcwt  interesting  works  of  the  sort  with 
wliich  we  are  acquainte<l,  and  will   supply  invaluable  materials 


I 

I 
I 

I 


SaOtx. 


^ 


in  the  future  bistorian  of  the  county;  for  a  gattd  niuX  complete 
history  of  Sussex  is  still  n  dcsidcmtum.  Nor  must  ul-  forj^L't  an 
uu^ful  compendium  on  the  aicrartions  of  its  sonboard  by  thi; 
Rev.  Mackenzie  WalcotL  Manti'U'a  account  of  the  Sussex  geo- 
lo^'  is  of  course  known  and  prized  by  all. 

After  all  this,  nill  it  not  be  siiid,  Wliat  an  Elysium  must 
Sussex  1>e !  It  appMirs  to  pos.sess,  as  the  a<)vt'rttser3  sav,  every 
rnjuisite  for  either  residence  or  investment.  But  are  you  sure 
there  are  no  dniwbiicks?  Ve*,  one, — with  all  our  love  for  il,  we 
must  admit  it  lias, — hvd  ;  and  this  said  mud  is  really  a  more 
serious  thin^  tlian  would  at   first  sij^bt  apjtenr.      Fuller  com- 

flaiiieil  in  the  sbcteenth  century  of  the  bndness  of  its  roads.* 
lefoe,  after  travelling  thmugh  all  the  counties,  tells  us  tliat  the 
road  from  Tunhritlpe  was  the  'deepest  and  dirti<«it'  in  all  that 
part  of  Kiif^flnud  ;  and  hereabouts  it  was,  not  far  from  Lene^s,  tliat 
he  describes  a  si^ht  which  he  had  never  seen  In  any  other  part 
of  England,  'that  going  to  church  at  a  country  villa{;e  he  saw 
nn  aneiriit  lady,  and  a  lady  of  very  gmaj  quality,  drawn  tn  chureh 
in  her  ciiac-h  vritli  six  oxen,  nor  was  it  citlier  fnilic  or  humour, 
but  mere  necessity.*  t  The  Handbook  (p.  xxxiii.)  cites  a  very 
lamentable  account  of  the  journey  (in  1708)  of  Prince  George  of 
Denmark  from  G««lalininjr,  tliniugli  the  Sussex  mud,  to  Petworth, 
to  meet  Charles  VI.  of  S|>aiD.  ''Hie  last  nine  miles  of  the  way,' 
says  the  reiiorter,  'cost  us  six  hnurii  to  ronquer  them.'  At  a 
later  date,  Horace  WaljKdc  |  calls  Susst^x  "a  tiuitful  county,  Init 
very  dirty  for  travellers,  w>  Uiat  it  may  be  better  measured  by 
(lays'  journe)-s  than  by  miles ;  whence  it  was,  that  in  a  late  order 
for  regulating  the  wages  of  coachmen  at  sucli  a  price  a  day's 
jimmev  from  London,  Sussex  alone  was  execpteil,  as  wherein 
ahorter  way  or  belt*T  j«iy  was  alluwcd.' 

In  these  days  of  railroads,  exprtf&s  trains,  excursion  trains, 
mail  trains,  parliamentary  ti'ains,  luggage  trains,  and  special 
trains,  there  is  no  great  difficulty  in  making  a  tour  in  Sussex, 
without  any  very  grrat  outlay  of  expense  or  time.  It  was  dif- 
ferent in  the  ginMl  ohl  times  when  the  mud  of  llie  couiuy  gene- 
mlly,  and  the  day  of  that  part  of  it  culled  the  VV^eald  in  partit-ular, 
once  rovcri-*d  entirely  with  forest  (wald),  was  a  proverb,  and  ii 
caution  to  all  those  whose  business  or  pleasure  led  them  into  that 
terribln  slough  of  despond.  Nut  much  more  than  one  hundriHl 
years  ago,  'the  Jmlges  in  die  spring  circuits  dared  venture  ih> 
farther  into  the  county  than  to  the  border  towns  of  Horsham 
and  East  Cirinstcad  to  hold   their  assizes,  leaving  it  to  jurymen, 


•  •"WorthiMof  Enalauil.*  lUle  'SiisEex.' 

t  "Ttnr  throtigli  Grut  Briioiu/  Ity  »  GcnUenian.  )«d.  t7*4\  voL  i.  pp.  59.  r,». 

I  '  TjCti«T«  to  Moaugiii,'  cd.  CnanLughiLni,  vol,  ii.  p.  178. 

yrowcu\«i% 


pTOMcutors,  and  witnosses  wlio  Hvctl  in  tlic  county,  to  find  th 
way  Ui  thosT  plaros  as  best  they  could.*  In  1771  Doctor  John 
Burton,  whu  wrotn  a  journal  of  his  travels,  asks  the  folluwing 
question  of  his  friend  : — '  Why,'  says  he,  '  is  it  that  the  oxen,  the 
SM'ino.  the  women,  and  all  otlirr  miiinuls,  an-  so  long-legged  in 
Sussex?  May  it  be  from  the  difficult)'  of  pulling  tlie  feet  out  of 
so  mueb  mud  by  tin*  btrengtb  of  the  ankle  tlmt  llie  muselt^s  gK 
Btnrtcbed  as  it  were,  and  the  bones  lengthened?'  The  Iteyerentl 
Doctor  docs  nut  like  the  dinners  better  than  the  ronda  ;  he  say>, 
*  thoy  also  cook  a  certain  tump  of  barlcy-mcal,  looking  much  like 
mud  itself,  and  hardened  like  iron,  offering  it  at  meals  instead  of 
bread:  lliese  yon  will  find  universally.'  NotwithsUinding  their 
long  legs,  die  l^jctur  says,  'you  would  pi-obably  ailinire  •  tlip 
women  if  you  saw  them,  as  modest  in  countenance,  aii<l  fond  rif 
eleganrc  In  their  dress,  but,  at  the  same  time,  fond  of  lalxiur,  and 
cijieripnced  in  htitischold  matters,  both  by  nature  and  education 
better  bred  and  more  intelleciual  geiitTally  than  the  men.' 

Nor  have  things  much  mended  even  now,  bo  far  as  the 
country  nwuls  are  concerned.  The  .soil  h  too  discouraging,  the 
stone  on  the  spot  Um  batl.  the  goixl  stone  at  a  distance  too  expensive 
to  *riirry,'  so  thni  the  flighwoy  Act  remains  a  dead  letter  in  most 
of  die  j»ftrishes,  transgressed  and  imp>tent.  This  ungeniol  quality 
of  its  soil  seemed  to  Dr.  Burton  to  infect  the  manners  of  its 
gentry,  whom  he  describes  as  'armigeros  incultos  sirapticesque^ 
iiatrlarchamni  ritu  in  Rucolicis  atqnc  Georgicis  unice  versatos, 
moribus  et  in.stilutis,  pertndc  ac  oj>eribus,  ni&ticos ;  turn  diti- 
ciplinaR  Academicir  turn  urbanitatum  vestrarum  ixmdinensium 
prt>rsiis  rudes.'  *  Although  die  squirearchy  of  Susses  no  longer 
merits  this  aspersion,  if  it  ever  did,  we  still  incline  to  believe 
that  an  unusual  Arradianism  per\'ades  the  manners,  and  aame> 
thing  HoHiiian  tlie  intellects,  of  tlie  lower  orders ;  tlie  result,  it 
may  be,  of  all  this  mud,  and  hill,  and  bog,  and  forest:  of 
ivhich  Ca-otian  element  the  recent  acquittal  by  a  Sussex  jury  of  ^M 
the  munlerer  <)f  the  jKJor  Chichester  student,  in  the  teeth  of  the  ^M 
judge's  perspieut»is  statement  of  the  law,  is  by  no  means  the  lewt 
precious  sjKtcimen. 

Strange,  that  the  county  whicli,  next  perhaps  to  Kent,  has  had 
the  grpatcst  opportunities  for  civilization,  is  one  which,  whether 
we  h«ik  at  the  nnmbrr  of  it*  uncultivated  acres,  or  the  wildness 
of  its  scenery,  or  the  primitive  manners  of  its  people,  must  be 
recktmed  (in  many  pniiiotus  of  it)  nn  still  among  the  li-ast  nd« 
vanrcd  iu  England ;  whilst  it  is  an  hintJirical  fact  that  it  was 
among  the  last  parts  ol  the  isl:ind  which  embrnceil  Oiristionity. 

Tite  distrid  known  gcnemlly  as  tliat  of  the  *  South  Downs,' 

'  '  Iter  Surr!ni«e  cl  Siist«zienw,'  p,  S8. 

and 


I 

I 


iStente. 


47 


act!  to  die  natives  as  *tlie  hill  countrt','  tliough  perhaps  strictly 
extending  only  from  Eastbourne  to  Shorehnm,  may  lie  saiil,  in 
a  popular  sense,  to  occupy  a  portion  of  the  county  from  tlie  Hamp- 
shire bonier  on  the  west  to  I'Jistboume  on  the  cast,  of  some  fifty 
or  sixty  mih-s  in  h*ngtli,  witli  nil  average  width  of  not  more  than 
from  five  to  six.  It  is  int4>rseetc(l  (for  it  is  a  characteristic  of 
the  chatk  formation  to  have  transverse  fissures)  by  four  prin- 
cipal rivers,  the  Atlur,  the  Arun,  the  Ouse,  aud  the  Cuckmere ; 
each  traversing  from  north  to  south  a  valley  of  its  own,  and 
having  llie  |>ceutiarity  of  Ijotli  rising  nnti  terminnttng  within  the 
county.  Its  northern  escarpment  is  evervwhere  tiic  highest, 
reaching-  in  some  pjuls  to  nwirly  900  feet  .hImivu  tlie  scii-leve!  ; 
whilst  its  general  configuration  is  that  of  a  auwression  of  gniceful 
undulntions. 

We  know  not  n  more  tranquillizing  scene  for  the  uvcr- 
wninght  hraiii  ta  rest  upon  than  the  prospect  from  the  Downs 
ini  a  fine  summer  day — the  true  Copley  Fielding  landscape  ;  here 
the  inanv  twinkling  smiles  of  ocean,  always  a  feast  to  look  uik>ii  ; 
there  tlie  slow-voked  oxen,  with  their  peaceful  pace  and  low-bent 
necks^  trat-Uing  us,  in  these  fevered  days  itf  stenm  and  electricity, 
K  very  lesson  of  jxitience  and  humility ;  there  tlie  bleating  flocks, 
hrowsuig  the  sweet  short  pasture,  with  tlieir  minutest  wants 
cnnxl  for,  and  their  least  wanderings  restminMl,  hy  tliat  ever 
watchful  and  sagacious  guardian,  who,  though  Colonel  Mamilton 
Smith  mav  not  have  honoured  him  \vith  a  page  among  bis  canine 
Worthies,  lives  nnd  brenthc^  so  beautifully  under  the  touch  of 
A  Lamlsecr  and  a  Devis  •—the  English  sheep-dog. 

Gilbert  White  t  obsen-ed  this  remarkable  peculiarity- — that 
*  from  the  westward  of  the  Adur  all  the  sheep  have  boms,  smooth 
wUitE-  (bees,  and  wlute  legs.  As  soon  as  you  pass  that  rircr,  ami 
tiiuunt  U^'eding  Jlill,  alt  the  flocks  at  once  become  hornless,  or,  as 
tlicvcall  them,  poll-shccp,  and  have,  moreover,  black  fnceswith  n 
white  tuft  of  wool  on  ifir-ir  foreheads,  and  spcrkled  and  spotteil 
legs;  so  thnt  you  would  think  the  flocks  of  I^-ibnn  were  p.xitiiring 
on  one  side  of  tlie  strr:im,  and  the  varit-giited  brer«l  uf  >Jnn>li  wero 
cantoned  on  the  other.  If  you  talk  with  the  shepherds  on  the 
subject,  they  tell  vou  that  the  case  has  been  so  from  time  imme- 
morial, and  smile  at  y«ur  complacency  if  you  ask  tlipm  whether 
the  situatiim  of  tlicst;  brPMls  might  not  be  re»Trs«i.*  Mr.  White, 
if  he  were  nnw  alivp,  wouUl  be  led  to  think  difiercntly  ;  but,  be 
this  as  it  ma\,  that  slender  boundary  has  separated  the  two  dis- 
tricts known  as  East  and  West  Sussex,  as  to  the  manners  of  its 
humbler  classes,  as  eETcctually,  it  has  Iweii  said,  as  some  mountain 
range  or  trackless  forest. 


*  A  local  sini«c  cvU-ltrnted  for  Im  sJci-tcUex  of  nual  tceoes. 
i  •  Nslnml  HUtory  ofSelbonM*  (ed.  Ji.>fa«),  p.  17S. 


No 


I 


No  .illusion  tn  the  great  county  characteristic — its  I>eautirul 
flocks — would  be  complete  without  mentioning  the  re8|>ecte(l 
name  of  John  Lllman,  who  not  oiJy  Jid  mure  than  any  other 
single  person  to  improve  the  Soulliiiown  brwd,  whleh  in  roii- 
sequenre  of  that  impnivi?ineii(.  hzis  now  spread  widelv  over  the 
country,  but  who  also  raised  the  whole  character  of  Sussex  hus- 
bandry, which,  according  to  Arthur  ^'oung,*  had  not,  in  his 
earlier  davs,  one  feature  of  excellence  to  recommend  it. 

Nature  has  given  to  Su&scx  an  unkindly  soil,  which  the  re- 
sources of  art,  aidwl  by  tlie  unterprise  of  even  such  landlords  as 
thr  late  Dukr  uf  Richmond  and  the  Earls  cif  Egremont,  Chieltrster, 
and  Shi'liifld,  have  not  overcome.  I'arts  of  it,  however,  must 
be  excepted — as,  for  instance,  the  rich  loam  of  the  sea-coast 
nround  Littlehampton  and  Bog-nor,  the  'garden  of  Sussex '(many 
parislies  in  which  grow  forty  bushels  of  wheat  to  the  acre),  and 
the  fertile  clay  of  tlie  range  which  intervenes  between  the  Weald 
and  the  Downs.  Even  tlie  VVeakl — a  considerable  portion  of 
which  was  not  many  years  ago  pronounced  '  incorrigible,'  when* 
the  farmers  are  poorest — now  produces  handsome  crops  of  wheat, 
besides  excellent  crops  of  clover  and  winter  tares.  It  might, 
proljahly,  also  grow  root-crojw,  VVealden  clay,  however,  is 
essentiallv  a  wheat  soil  ;  to  it  the  farmer  gives  all  his  manure, 
besides  a  summer's  fallow,  though  this,  when  too  much  trusted 
to,  bus  been  called  'dressing  wiUt  the  ploughshare.'  Much  has 
alreadv  been  done  for  tlie  countv  by  draining,  umler-draiuing, 
the  cultiration  of  roots,  the  use  of  modem  machinery  and  suitable 
manures  }  and  when  the  farmer  has  thrown  down  the  uscles* 
fences,  gmbbed-up  the  worse  than  useless  'sliaws,'  which  now 
(to  use  an  expressive  local  phrase)  *  house  in  '  his  small  enchisun-!^ 
taken  out  single  trees,  which  are  more  injurious  than  a  whole 
Wood,  and  brought  his  inferior  p.istures  into  cultivation,  he 
will  find  things  still  better  for  him.  The  changes  we  have  men- 
tioned, together  with  the  Poor  Law  Amendment  Act  and  the 
cessation  of  smuggling,  have  already  most  materially  impFOve<l 
the  condition  of  tbr  pcasanlrv. 

Tlie  ui>]>er  portion  of  tlu*  chalk  form.ition,  which  cnmprises 
the  Downs,  is  8ci>ai-ateil,  geologically,  into  two  divisions;  the 
first  containing  the  chalk  with  (lints  and  the  chalk  without  flints  ^j 
(the  latter  chnracirriscd  by  a  finer  texture  and  graver  colour)  ;^^| 
the  lower  strata  ciimprrhending,  in  well-marked  dejiosils,  the  ^^ 
chalk,  mart,  and  fireiitone,  which,  again,  rest  on  a  bed  of  gaull 
an4l  lower  green-sand.  'I'hcse  strata  have  been  evidi-ntlv  all 
depusitnl  in  the  basin  of  an  immense  and  profound  ocean,  teem- 
ing with  rouutle«*  forms  of  animal   life,  whose  fositil  remains, 


4 
4 


•  TTi«r8«rcUrj  of  the  IhnnI  of  Agricnliarc 

found 


Susj$er. 


49 


foonil  in  the  most  pcrfoct  state  of  pTcsorratinn  imaginable,  testify 
to  thp  gentle  and  gradual  operation  of  that  great  process  of  Nature 
wliirli,  in  remote  nffcs,  consolidate*!  them. 

As  we  get  furtlier  intii  tlie  county,  other  grtat  gcologic&l 
fiirmatioRs  eiignge  our  allenttoii.  Throughuut  the  nurth  and  east 
runs  a  vast  bed  of  claj,  or  marl,  known  us  tlic  Wualden  eUy, 
unUergirded  bv  a  bed  of  sand,  in  which  the  ironstone  was  found  ; 
the  one  remarkably  favoumble  for  forest-timbrr,  and  holding 
ibe  Sussex  marble ;  the  other  for  its  picturesque,  thonj^h  barren, 
appearance ;  and  Iwth  showing'  by  their  organic  remains  that  they 
have  Ix-en  prwiuced  by  the  action  of  river  currents,  and  not  by 
the  waves  of  the  ocean ;  whilst  on  the  soutb  of  the  Downs,  and 
up  the  vallevs  and  levels  of  tlie  rivers,  occur  still  newer  dejMsits. 
Tlius^  beginning  with  tlie  lower  and  most  ancient  strata,  we  have 
llie  imn'Sand,  including  the  beds  of  ironstone,  the  Hastings,  Til- 
i;ate,  and  Aslil)urnhani  beds  (the  highest  point  in  wliirh  is  Crow- 
borough  Hill),  then  tlie  Wrald  or  Oak  Tree  elay,  cimtjiining 
embedded  M'ithin  it  twenty  different  torts  of  shells,  fiabes  of  a 
pecalinr  character,  reptiles  of  various  genera^  including  tortoises, 
ciuciMliles,  and  otiier  saurians  (of  which  the  most  remarkable  is  the 
herbivunms  iguanodnn),  together  witli  some  remains  of  the  onlcr 
of  wadiiig-binls,  though,  as  yet,  no  bones  of  niamnialin  ImvR  been 
ubsminl  in  it.  Tlin  vrgrtable  rcmnins  m*r  chieflv  fpnis,  c^-cadt-w, 
and  conilera*.  Almve  the  WVahleu  comes  the  chalk,  and  over  it 
again  thp  teniar}"  formation,  showing  Stonehengc  sandstonr  (large 
boulders  of  siliceous  sandstone  rretiuciitly  found  among  tiie  hills)  ; 
the  plastic  ilay  (of  which  tlie  Castle  Hill  at  Newhaven,  and 
Chimting  Mill  near  Seafonl,  are  gmn]  sp(--cimcns) -,  and,  lastly, 
the  Lonilonclay.  To  llie«;  succeeU,  finally,  the  newest  deposits, 
comprising  the  diluvial,  or  those  which  are  the  effects  of  causes 
no  longer  active,  and  the  alluvial,  or  those  which  arc  occasioned 
b\*  such  as  arc  still  in  opTrnlion.* 

To  each  of  thi;  above  gifdogical  divlsionsof  the  county  belongs, 
as  might  be  expected,  a  distinctive  yfora  of  its  own.  On  me 
Weald,  indeed,  Nature  seems  to  have  lavished  her  choicest  gifts, 
OS  if  in  kirnlly  compensation  for  the  many  disadvantages  of  its 
mln*  and  sloughs  in  winter,  and  its  thirsty  lands  in  summer; 
its  wild  flowt-rs  an*  proverbially  gt)rgei)us  in  llieir  hues,  and 
mngnificetit  in  tlieir  *.!»■.  Where  else  shall  we  see  the  mcrry- 
licflrled  school-children  returning  with  such  pretty  loads  of  primroses 
and  cowslips?  where  else  do  the  self-sown  ferns  dress  out  dank 
lanes  with  festoons  more  elegant  than  South  Kensingtnn  priyj^- 
men  shall  ever  arrange  for  a  dintr  a  la  Jituac  f     On  the  levels 


'  Sc«  '  MonttfU's  Cvolugy  of  the  RonOi-Eatt  at  Engtaod,'  clup.  V. 
Vol  lU.—Nti.  -^23.  K  Md 


and  vitUeys  of  the  rivers  we  gather  a  different  but  hardly 
bright  and  variegated  nosegny  of  water  plants.     On  the  Downs 
the  siK?cie9  seem  dwarfed,  but  arc  still  moat  beautiful.     What,  ^ 
Sot  example,  can  comiXLte  with  the  gulden  blaze  of  their  gorsofl 
for  spring-tide  splendour?    what,  for  exquisite  pencilling,  with 
the  \ovs]y  eyubriitlit,  the  blue  gentians,  or  pink  centaury  with  lu 
yellow  ejc*  wliilst  on   the  barren  moors  of  the  sandy  distrtcti^ 
the  ling  spreads  colour  and  rirh  glowing  hues  over  thousands  V 
of  aercs:  hence  manv  a  tint  df-'^ar  to  the  landseapc-jiaintcr,  and 
the  mellow  distance  lading  into  a  purple  haze. 

No  county,  not  excepting  Kent,  retains  its  Saxooistns  more  than 
Sussex,  whether  we  reganl  the  names  of  places,  thingSi,  or  persons. 
But  we  must  caution  our  Sussex  friends — Uie  '  Susscxienscs  Su»- 
spxiensium  ' — th:it  in  their  zeal  to  uphold  the  reputation  of  their 
n>untryuien  as  grammarians,  they  do  not  press  their  ditims  ton  for, 
We  will  not  question  that,  even  in  its  apparently  ungnimmntical 
forms — e.  y.,  m  the  preterite  of  verbs,  as  in  '  catcbml/  'blowcil,'^ 
and  *  choosed,'  for  *  caught,*  •  blew,*  and   '  chose,'  ami  in  some  fl 
irregularities  of  the  imperfect,  as  in  *  dud '  for  *  did/  'rid'  for 
*  rode,' '  holp '  for  *  helped ' — the  Sussex  dictionary  may  be  the 
most  classically  correct.      Yet  when    we  ctmsider  the  '  plunietic 
decay'  which  the  Queen's  English  has  undergime  in  the  niuutlis      \\ 
of  tlie  railway  porters  of  the  nineteenth  century,  with  nil  their  ^| 
polidh,    wo   may    well    believe    that    many    differences  between  ^ 
the  Sussex  dialect  and  ordin.try  Kagltsh  are  mere  iiilgarisms. 
We  doubt  whether  Horseniowncey,  Tissus,  Waddus,  and  Fow- 
iugton,  for  Hcrstmonccux,  Ticehurst,  Wadhurst,  and  Folkington, 
ara  not  matched  by  the  unspellable  corruptions  which  assail  our 
ears,  an  we  travel  d«wn  thelirighton  line,  for  *  Cmwliiy,  Faygate,  j 
Iloi'sham,  Uuwfant,  or  Kast  Grinstead.'     I'be  truth  is,  that  many  fl 
words    which  our  glossaries   bavc   collected  are  not  venerable  ™ 
archaisms,   but  illiterate  mispronunciations,  and   many  of  them 
are  not  jieculiar  to  the  county.     Thus  we  cannot  think  that  such 
words  as  the  fnllowing  deserve  tlie  placR  which  has  bt-'«ii  asalgneil 
to  them  by  Mr.  Durrant  Cooper*  among  Sussex  prnvineialisms: 
'uicardt,'   *arguify,*  'arler'  (fur   after),    'barnailcs,'    'beck*  (a 
stream),  'boulder*  (a  sea-shore  stone),  'brakes,'  *  callow,'  'clotl- 
hopper,'  'cozey,'    'croft,'    'hob,'   'rowings'  (after-grass),    'rut,' 
*rum*    (queerj,    'slmnd*  (a    twist    of    horsehair),    'U^rrify*    (to 
worry),    '  to-do  '    (subs.^,    '  tol-lol,'   '  lop-sawyer,'    '  wallojj,*  aiul 
many  others. 

Hnwevcr,  those  who  relish  a  smack  of  the  true  Sussex  vej> 
nacular  we  will  iodulge  with  a  stanza  or  two  from  '  Tom  Clo^ 


*  S«c  Hr.  \y.  D.  Ctfoper'i '  Glonary  oT  tkoMX  PnnrLaGisUEnu '  (Sad  cd.). 

pole's 


I 


J 


Sussex.  51 

pole's  Journey  to  Liinnun,  written  in  pure  Sussex  Doggerel  by 
his  Uncle  Tim,'  leaving  it  to  the  learned  reader  to  attribute  it  to 
either  the  most  high-bred  Saxonism  or  the  lowest  patois : — 

'  For  siBter  Sal  Atb  yean  a^o  A  liddle  alnes  stood  close  by ; 

Went  off  with  Bquyer  Brown ;  Tbioka  I,  I'll  go  in  bero, 

HoQsemiud,  or  sutumut ;  don't  know  An  git,  ye  sea,  a  coger  loiko 

what,  Ov  gJod  brcDchceso  and  beer. 

To  liTO  at  Lnmran  Town.  ¥           •           •           • 

Jiisy  'hav'd  oncommoD  well  to  Sol,  Now  wost  ant  was,  I  cud*nt  rood 

Ad  ge'  or  clothes  on  dat ;  Do  Icttf  ni  on  de  post ; 

Bo  Bal  'hav'd  naabun  well  to  them.  So  sometimes  I  wont  roun  about 

And  grow'd  quito  tall  and  fat.  An  othcrwUe  was  lost.' 

•  *  •  • 

And  whra  Tim  got  to  Crayton  (Croydon)  town,  he  asked  an 
ostler  for  a  bed : — 

*  O'l  male  I  cmn  » tejtui  way,  "  Ya  may  lay  down  in  dat  dere  pen. 

As  &r  as  I  be  able ;  Among  dnt  good  Both  hay." 

I'll  trate  ya  wnd  a  pot  o"  beer  •  •  •  • 

To  let  me  in  your  stable. 

sum  sed  I  wud  o  I  leather  legs ; 
"  Whv  yaha,  ya  seem  a  'onest  man,"  Sum  pointed  to  ma  bat. 

Too  stable  chap  did  say.  An  ax'd  ma  uf  a  swarm  of  bees 

Was  housen  under  dat.' 

Of  course,  there  has  always  been  plenty  of  folk-lore  in  Sussex. 
What  county  has  it  not?  and  perhaps  from  the  simple,  back- 
ward, manners  of  the  people  it  has  lingered  longer  here  than 
in  more  advanced  districte.  There  are  the  pretty  legends  of 
the  fays  (or  ^pharisees,'  as  the  common  people  called  them) 
leading  their  mazy  dances,  under  the  pale  moonbeams,  over  the 
dark  green  rings  which  are  so  characteristic  of  the  Downs ;  and 
of  the  forest  *  lilies  of  the  valley,*  sown  and  renewed  ever  by  the 
fertilising  blood  which  St.  Leonard,  hermit  and  confessor,  the 
patron  of  prisoners  and  travellers,*  shed  in  his  great  battle  with 
the  dragon.  And  still  the  proverb  holds  that  his  unmusical 
soul  proscribed  sweet  Philomel,  who  cannot  therefore  sing  within 
his  woodland  solitudes.  Cuckoo  Fair,  at  Heathfield,  every  14th 
of  April,  is  still  so  called  because  in  popular  romance  that 
harbinger  of  spring  was  then  and  there  first  heard  out  of  nn  old 
woman  s  basket  Some  few  people  still  believe  that '  magpies  are 
shoed '  at  Piddinghoe.  And  good  Sussex  folk  still  love  to  show 
you,  at  Mayfield,  the  veritable  tongs  with  which  Dunstan  plied  the 
nasal  organ  of  his  adversary,  till  its  sulphurous  composition, 
yielding  to  the  heat,  sent  the  saint  headlong  to  the  ground  to 

•  See  '  Batler's  Liyes  of  the  Saints,'  vol.  ii,  p.  822.  There  was  in  the  aorth- 
eait  of  the  forest  a  chapel  to  St.  Leonard,  which  probably  gave  name  to  the  forest, 
through  which  one  of  the  main  roads  passed  that  was  frequented  by  travellers  to 
ud  from  the  Coatinent. 

E  2  slake 


slaki!  the  implement*  of  lus  trade  In  the  neigliboiirtng  *  Wells.* ^ 
But  all  these  vi&ions  of  the  past  are  fast  fading  away  before  ou 
unromaotic  Iron  Times. 

In  the  local  nomenclnturr,  bcsidt^  the  common  Anglt 
termination  ton  (cxrmnlifict)  in  Alfriston,  Alciston,  DalUn^on),] 
hurst    (ji  *  woiicl    whtcHi  yields    food    for    cattle'),   whether  as  %\ 
jjrefii  or  suffix  (as  'I'icehurst,  VV'adhurst,  Cronhurst,  Hcrstmon- 
ccux,  llurstpierpoiot),  ley  (a  'plain  near  a  wood'),  as   in   Hcl- 
ling/ty^  Chidding/n/,  East  Hoath/cr/  (always  with  tlic  accent  on 
the  last  syllahlr),  imtiirally  prevail  in  the  Weald,  as  also  do,  from 
tlie  undulating  irliarartcr  of  the  iTounty,  tlie  Anal  dm  or  dean  (l 
'  shcltcrwl  place') — as  in  ICast  Dean,  West  Dean,  Hotlingdean,1 
Ovingilean, — and  combe  (a  *troup;h-!ike  valley,*  as  in  Barcotntx^^ 
Pilcombe),  and,  from  the  extent  of  its  seaboard,  ey  ('  island  '  orj 
'  marsh '),  as  tJclstry,  Peveiisey  (tlic  Seal's  Island,  Peoln  s  Islaoil),! 
&c.     Oi ham  ('house  or  manor') — according  to  the  old  proverb! 
one  of  the  most  common  suffixes  in   English  tojjography — 'the] 
cminty  ha^  its  avcrag;e  number;  thus  we  have  iTorsham,  or 
manor  of  Horsa,    brother  of   Hengist '  (accortling   to   the    local 
tradition),    or  perhaps    a    corruption   of    Hurstbam ;    Shorcham, 
Eartlwm,   Hamsey   (tlie   house    by   the   water),    Grafrham>  ami 
many  others.    One  other  termination  should  be  mentioned — that^^ 
in  *ing' — which  occurs  with  unusual  frequency  in  Sussex,  caM>^H 
cially  along  tlic  coast.      It  is  the  Saxon  indication  of 'son-ship* 
or  descent ;  and,  where  *  ham  '  is  added,   marks  the  site  of  a 
primitive   settlement.     Thus  Beddingham   is  the   settlement  of. 
the  sons  of  B<Hla.     Often  the  additional  syllabic  has  been  dropi>edj 
for  brevity,     Tlie  j)refixcs  have  been  well   classifieil  int«»  thossj 
which    indicate  sobib   former  proprietiirshlp  of  the  place,  some 
ni)'thological  personage,  Mime  historical  allusion  to  events  which 
happened    there,   some   topi>gTaphicaI    feature,  or   sonic  natural 
object,  animal,  mineral,  or  vc^table.    From  those  thus  accounted 
for  by  derivation   from   the  vegetable  world,  we  may  learn  also 
somewhat  of  the  sifha  of  our  county.     Thus  in  Ashdowm  and 
Ashburnliam,   Ashhurst  and  Ashington,  is  recognised  the  *  war- 
like ash  '  of  Drayt^m  ;    in  But  khurst,  his  '  softer  beerh/     The 
holly  and  hazel,  the  willow  and  the  birch,  Drayton's  other  wood- 
nymplis,  are  also  marked  in  the  county  vocabulary.     The  yew»j 
of  Crowhurst  and  Herstmonceux  churchyards,  the  jmks  at  Cats^l 
fielil  anil    in   ShetTuilf!    Pnrk    (though   perhaps   inferior  tn    iheifl 
Panslianger  rival  in  Hertfordshire),  and  the  nlil  decayed  bonlerj 
elm  at  Crawley,  will  rie  with  individual  specimens  from  any] 
county. 

And  now,  leaving  the  world  of  antiquity  and  romance,  wt 
must  invito  our  reader  in  a  matter  of  fact  sort  o(  way  to  acrom- 


i 


pony 


Sum9, 


58 


pauy  u«  at  the  rate  of  some  twenty*  or  twenty-five  mile*  for  ten 
or  twelve  dajt  together ;  whilst,  Ixr^itining  from  the  little  border 
town  of  I'^insworlU,  we  seek  to  make  good  the  ground  to  the 
esstem  limits  of  the  county.  For  t\w  which,  if  he  has  gtiine<1, 
as  we  oursplve^t  did  in  the  suimnerlejts  suiiHiirr  <if  ISliO,  suiiitt 
useful  hints  for  bis  tour  at  the  annual  gathering:  of  that  li-ariied 
Society  whose  Collections  figure  at  the  head  of  our  article,  he 
will  be  all  the  better  prepared  ;  even  though  with  us  he  may 
have  lamented  the  exchaiijfe  which  that  fralcniitv  lius  made  of 
its  wonted  '  ad  j>artus '  oration  on  it&  favourite  art  for  a  long  and 
lieavy  dimier. 

The  county  finds  a  natural  boundary  from  Hants  in  the  little 
stream  of  the  Kms,  which  gives  its  name  to  the  modest  hut 
iraprovinjT  village  which  is  our  starting-point.  We  will  strike 
northward  along-  its  pleasant  banks  to  the  villagx*  of  West- 
buunie,  whose  name  describes  the  one  limit,  as  Kastbounie  does 
the  rither,  of  the  Down  district  As  wc  lean  urer  the  bridge 
which  sp-uis  that  dancing  brook,  briglit  as  crj'stal,  weedy  but 
pebble-buttomed,  and  full  of  nipids,  we  can  fancy  how  its  late 
rccior  learned  here,  ns  in  miniature,  to  love  the  waters  'of 
the  Erne,'  whose  '  Legends '  he  so  well  portrayed  ;  iind  how  he 
went  forth  from  his  quiet  parsonage  to  confront  town  mobs  on 
Brighton  platforms,  and  throw  down  the  gauntlet  fur  tlic  Chunrh 
he  loved  so  well.  Alas!  his  stout  heart  will  trouble  them  no 
more.  By  the  pohslied  marbles  of  St.  Mary  Church  overlifoking 
the  ivatcrs  of  Tor-bay — no  unfitting  resting-place — he  is  gatlicrwl 
tri  his  fathers. 

This  said  little  Kms  is  a  wayward  streamlet,  and  we  hare  tn 
cross  and  recross  it  so  often,  that  we  forget  ^t  last  which  county 
We  are  in,  before  w*e  can  make  either  that  imposing  old  ruin 
ia  the  lowlands,  or  that  tempting  fir-clump  on  the  hilt-top,  which 
is  to  be  tbe  Ix-giimiug  of  our  Down  walk,  uikI  is  yclept '  Kow 
Hill.*  The  old  ruin,  however — Rnctnn  Tower — -is  disappointing 
enough.  It  is  useful  as  a  beacon,  seen  far  over  the  levels,  for 
shins  in  the  intricate  navigation  of  Thomey  Isle  or  Selsey  itill, 
mm!  it  interesting  as  having  been  erected  by  I^ird  Halifax,*  the 
owner  of  Stanstead  Park,  in  the  domains  of  which  it  stands, — but 
tliat  is  all.  A  dash  across  some  boggy  meadows  would  seem  to 
plant  us  on  the  *Hill '  in  no  time  ;  hut  we  must  be  patient,  and 
ull  bock,  after  a  fruitless  Hnunder  in  them,  to  retiace  thr  high- 
road,  tUt  a  legitimate  footpath  appears,  and  to  ruminate  on  the 
Buml  law  that  the  old  establishe<l  way  is  generally  the  safest. 

'  Ocorge  Dunk,  Earl  of  Halifax,  tMctesurely  Lonl-l.kutciinul  of  Ireland  mil 
BeereUrj  of  Suic  Unip.  Oeorgo  III.,  agfttast  vtiom  Wilkes  obtained  ■  rcnlict  for 
iwnt,  for  tb«  wiaare  of  his  pap«n. 

'Bow 


1 


*  Bow  *  Hill,  ve  opine,  was  so  called  rnthcr  from  its  shape  than 
from  tho  arms  which  He  Iniried  there.     Earthworks  there  ore — 
veritabio  British  onrs — large  enougli  ti>  t-oiitniii  luivthing;,   arid 
testifying:,   them  is    litth*  dniiht,    by    the   mnatiis    wlui:h    havn 
long    sinrp  mtitiltliTril    tlirre,    to  tht*  draillv    liatlle  which    una 
WBRed  in   vnndt-r  vnlliry,  Kinglev   licjttoin,  btrtweeu  tho  men  of 
Sussex  and  the  pirate  Oanes.     liut  the  whole  contour  of  the  hill 
is  io  like  its  name,  that  one  necxX  not  search  farther  lor  a  meaning. 
However  this  may  be,  here   the  sar^tm  and  ludydny  folk  alike'] 
repair  from  Cliirhestpr  nil  thr  siimmpr  long  to  flig  or  picMiie 
tn    their    hearts'     ctmtcnt:     and     vi^rily     a    charming     summer' 
niornin(;*s  ramble  from  the  venerable  old   city   there,  six  miles 
oW,  it  is,  this  same  hUUtop,   with   its  sheer  turl  stiles  and   the 
chalk  patches  ^vliich  givr   such  nnggrrAtrd  stropncss  and   picv 
tureMiiir  baldness  tn  thrm,  and  tliat  black  fonrst  of  vcws,  birch,  ^^ 
and  ttioms  ht-low,  }^rowing  so  rampantly  in  the  Ut  nf  the  hors^^^ 
bIioc'  dcU  which  eats  far  into  the  heart  of  Uie  old  hill. 

Follow  ing  the  sinuosities  of  the  *  Bow,'  we  traverse  the  extreme 
north-west  ver^re  of  the  county,  and  one  of  its  wildest  portions,  &» 
lar  as  the  beautiful  sent  of  the  Fcathcrstonhaughs — formerly  of  ^ 
the  Earls  of  Tankervillc — Up  Park,  where  the  broken  ground,  ^| 
and  |)ark,  straggling  in  unrcstraineil  communion  with  down  anJ^* 
heather  far  beyond  tho  palings  which  confiiit?  its  dwr,  give  a 
chace-likc   ap]>earance    to    the   scene.     The    bouse   contains  a 
superb  collection  of  Sevres  china,  now  of  enormous  value,     I»ut 
this  is    inaccessible   to  ordinary   tourists;   and  after   satisfyin^j 
ourselves  of  thn  gloricit  of  tlie  pros^iecl,  including,  in  the  s<>utb,J 
Lady  Holt  Park,  long  the  residence  of  the  loyalist  Carylla,  termrl 
Charles  1.,  and  in  the  foresrround,  Liltlegrcen,  lately  occupimi  h< 
Mr.  Justice   Erskinc,  in  the  distance  the  Solent,  Spithead,  and 
St  Helenas,  and  on  the  north  that  remarkable  view  of  the  wholaj 
Weald    (which    we    shall    henceforth    command    in    dill'erent 
varielies  from  this  side  the  Downs,  during  the  remainder  of  oui 
lour) — a  stiff  walk  awaits  us  in  every  direction  ere  we  can  hoi 
to  end  our  evening  and  talk  over  the  events  of  the  day  at  ani 
decent  hostelry.     So  nothing  remains  for  it  but  to  breast  with 
good  heart  Beacon,  and  Marden,  and  Harting  Downs, — Hnrting,1 
the  rectory  of  Cardinal  Pole,' — and  hasten  through  Cocking,  err 
sunset  (for  the  Downs  are  ugly  customers  after  dark),  to  the  snug, 
little  borough  of  Midhurst— the  country  of  tho  Poyntxcs  and 
Egmonts. 

Hard  by  Midhnrst  (at  whose  grammar-school  Sir  C.  Lyell  «a«1 
educated),    and   embracing   the    little   town,    as   a  great  place 
ought,  with  its  ancestral  timber  rising  among  the  cottages  of  tlur 
poor.  Her  Majesty's  highway  running  without  pale  or  hedge 

through 


It 

] 


1 


3u$mi 


55 


tlirou^b  a  noble  ileor  park,  sUnd  thn  rrmn'tnsof  Cowilray  House, 
tlir  1)1)1110  ul"  the  Montagues,  where  Queen  EHaibeth  in  159] 
killeil  tlirre  or  four  drrr  nitli  lier  crossbow,  uhilc  on  a  visit 
Lttni  M'mtajup,  who,  all  papisi  as  he  was,  brought  a  troop  of  two 
hundrwl  horse  to  tbn  (^upt-n  at  Tilbury,  c*)mmanJpil  by  himself^ 
bis  sou,  an>]  liis  graudson,  *  when  Kuropc  stood  by  in  perfect 
•u*i»ense  to  behold  what  the  craft  of  Rome,  the  jjower  of  Philip, 
anil  the  genius  of  Farncse  could  achieve'  by  the  ln\'inrible 
Armada  'atrainst  t!ie  Island  Queen  with  her  Drakes  and 
C*H.-iIs,'*  Three  deaths  in  one  familv  bv  drowning,  and  the 
almost  tirtal  destruction  of  a  fine  maiinion  by  fire,  within  dtn 
memory  of  livin|>  man,  are  eiions;h  to  make  one  tmail  its 
beautiful  grounds  with  feelings  of  awe,  ami  to  invest  it  witli  a 
sujKTstitious  melancholy.  Tlircc  hundi-ed  years  ajjo,  however, 
llierf  was  no  more  festive  housp  in  England,  when  '  three  oxen 
and  1  id  ^cesc  *  figured  in  its  bill  of  farer  for  break  last.  The  (lien 
jinjpriflur  was  a  strict  discinlinariini,  and  the  '  Onlers  and  Itules 
of  Sir  Anthony  Browne  '  curiously  illustrate  the  domestic  economy 
of  a  great  man's  family  in  the  sixteenth  century,  especially  as 
rcgtirds    its  important    departments    of   the   'eweryc*  and   the 

*  but  try  I','  and   t]u>se  pirt  officers,  'my  Sewer' and  'my  Cnrver.' 
'Sir,' said  Dr.  Johuwm,  wlien  he  visited  Cowdray  from  Rrijifhton, 

*  1  ahoulil  like  to  stay  here  fonr-imd- twenty  liours.     VVe  see  herej 
how  our  ancestors  lived.'     It  is  wortliy  of  n;mark,  tlut  Cowdrayl 
u  one  of  the  numerous  manors  in  the  county  where  the  custoii 
of  Borough  English,  or  descent  of  lands  to  the  voungrst  instead 
of  tlie  eldest  son,  prevails ;  and  wc  may  jtidge  how  that  custom 
ol)talii<i   In  Snssrx   beynml  otlicr  counties,  bv  noting  that,  whilst 
in    SutTidk  thiMe  lire  but  30  manors  so  regulate*!,  in  Surrey  2H, 
and  in  \Varwicksbire  2,  hero  theiT  are  no  fewer  than  liO. 

And  Iwyond  Cowdray  lies  princely   I'etworth,  the  home  of 
the  Percys,  Seymours,  and  Wyndhams,  with  its  antique  marblc^ij 
raodern  busts  and  statuary,  and  choice  Gibbons  wood  cnn'ings,  anal 
Hotspur's  swurd  ;  lis  majcuificent  jKirk, '  Percy  to  the  back-bone^'l 
in  ^Vnlpnle's  words;  and  its  once  stalely  stables,  'the  best  of  aayj 
subject's  in  Christendom,  afTordini;  standing  in  state  for  three  sconf  1 
horses,  with  all  necessary  accommodation.*   Tlic  real  glorjof  Pet- 
worth,  however,   is   its  vast  and   superb  collection  of  pictures. 
SrarccW  an  artist  of  name  is  unrepresented.     Here  is  one  of  the 
fineftt  Claudes  In  the  world  ;  and  some  remarkable  landscapes  by 
Turner,  Claude's  great  modem  rival.    Pn)b!ibU'  no  Iiouse  in  Eng- 
land can  boast  of  more  genuine  portraitK  by  Vandyke ;  famous 
men  and  noble  ladies,  in  whose  all  but  living  preseuL-e  wc  arc 


I 

I 


fahly  carrieil  back  to  the  days  of  cavalier  plumes  nnd  jiorfumeil 
'  Iove-iock».'  The  numerous  mixlern  pictures  in  tlie  great  Nortli 
Gallpry  were  rtillcc-twl  f(ir  tlip  most  pjirt  l>y  thr  Karl  uf  KgremODt 
— wliose  libpmlily,  i"  niatti-rs  relaliiig  Ui  art,  did  not  expire  wJtli 
htmst^lf.  The  Pctivoith  collirrtioua — uf  the  utmost  value  Mid 
intoroit  to  the  student — are  at  all  times  accessible. 

Retracing;  ourstepstothn  summit  of  GKrking:  Hill,  nod  skirting 
the  mirlh  side  «f  Sing^leton  FcwTst,  wc  rw>w  pntt^r  the  G(K>dwo(Hl  pro- 

Iirrty,  passing  tielow  uh  iu  (piick  succicssiun  OmfTliam,  Duntord 
louse,  built  by  Mr.  CoIxUmi  (himself  a  native  of  Sussex),  on 
an  estate  |M-esented  to  him  by  the  Anti-Corn-Law  League, 
and  IJarlavingtoii,  and  Woolavinjjton,*  the  Bishop  of  Oxford's 
rountr>'-9cat,  (with  Burton  Park  in  the  more  distant  fore- 
groun(i),  not  unobswrvant  of  tlie  Bishop's  wire-fenced  jn'nut 
and  corkscrew  wooden  observatory  iii  the  wood  of  Teglease, 
and  descending:  Into  the  turnpike  road  from  Chichester  to  J'et- 
worth  at  the  eighth  milestone  in  tlie  hmc  village  of  Upwaltbara. 
Here  we  should  deflect  once  more  from  beaten  tracks,  keeping 
lIosi*  under  some  doliciaus  woodland  banks.  iK-neath  fir  belts  and 
larch  plantations,  until  we  find  ourselves,  after  a  two  miles*  walk, 
at  the  Duke  of  Kichmond's  lodges  on  Pilley  Green,  and  on  tlie  ^ 
verge  of  t}ie  far-fame<t   racecourse.  H 

This  splendid  course,  takin£^  jaded  London  out  of  itself  in 
the  weary  dog-davs,  has  acquiied  a  pre-eminence  for  which  the 
raeing^  world  is  entirely  indebted  to  the  enterprise  of  llie  late 
Duke,  The  hill  is  slngulnrlv  adapted  for  the  pur|Mj«e.  Situate 
700  feet  abo\L*  the  sea  level,  and  possessing  an  unbroken  land- 
sca]»c  in  every  direction,  it  catches  each  jH-rfumed  breeze  that 
is  wafted  from  land  or  sea.  Here,  when  all  Nature  elsewhere 
languishes,  the  boundless  expanse  of  turf  and  seaboard  brings 
momentary  freedom  and  elasticity  to  the  most  careworn,  ll  is 
unlike  Epsom,  it  is  unlike  Ascot;  you  feel  you  are  in  a  noble- 
man's dntnains,  and  if  not  bis  invited  guest,  at  least  a  |icrmitted 
trespasser.  On  the  south — the  prevailing  quarter  from  which 
the  vegetable  world  of  Sussex  turns  instinctively  —  aflbrdiDg 
shelter  enough  for  nil  comers,  cither  from  the  partial  thunder- 
shower  or  regular  dowr»-pour,  runs  a  tall  dark  grove  of  fin. 
On  the  western  extremity  of  the  course  rises  the  stately  Grand 
Stand,  not  the  conspicuous  building  which  travellers  who  look 
to  the  well-known  hill  from  the  carriages  of  the  South-Coast 
Railway  take  it  for,  but  concealed  under  covert  of  the  grovej 
whiUt  the  singular  conical  hill  known  as  tlic  Rook's  TrundalJ 
(a  ['ftrruption  probably  of  Koundalt  and  Si.  Roclic),  hoop-shaped 

I^rlaviiigton,  tbc  tos  V  vnelflmire  of  Barlaf.    Wools vinglou,  tbt  too  of  DIaC 
Bse  KeinbU'i  *  Angle-Sucons.' 


I 
I 


SutMBP. 


57 


and  (Innblc  trenrhecl,  proudi}'  Hanks  the  whole.  The  course  is 
a  horseshoe,  like?  Kpsom ;  sci  that  the  sprttators  ma^  commaml 
a  view  of  all  thu  running,  but  iso  bold  a  ravinr  divides  jla  cxtrc- 
miticfi  that  no  cross-countr}'  cavalcade  can  ho  present  Iiere,  as 
th«rc,  at  both  the  starting  and  the  winning;  posts. 

Goodn-ood  House,  or  ag  it  was  nnciontly  called  Godinwood, 
prolrably  from  the  Saxon  TJiHlwinus,  purchased  by  Clwrli-a 
r)uke  nl'  Hi<-htnond  from  the  \ortliatnpton  family  a  century 
and  a  half  ajj^o,  posnesM-s  no  architectural  prctenRions  ;  the  present 
buildtn;;  is  only  an  addition  to  a  former  huntintf-seat.  Vet  here 
the  (alas  !  late)  Duke  of  three  dukedoms  unostentatiously  lived 
antl  raine<l  his  hospital rtJes,  the  model  of  a  true  Kng'liah  gentle- 
man as  he  was,  for  the  last  forty  years. 

In  tlic  f^juiids  of  Goodwood  is  now  prcservwl  that  remarkable 
Koman  relic  to  which  we  have  before  (|»,  iU^)  referral.  It  wag 
found  at  Chichester  in  1713,  iu  digging  the  foundations  for  the 
Coancil  Chamber. 

Chirhestrr,  one  of  tlic  most  ancient  cities  in  the  kingdom, 
situated  three  miles  from  thi-  foi>t  of  the  Downs,  must  enter  into 
an  nrcouiit  of  them.  The  fii'st  we  hear  of  it  is  as  a  Koman 
stitton  unih?r  the  luune  of  Regiium.  After  the  departurn  of  the 
Humans  from  Britain  and  the  arrival,  as  wc  have  seen,  of  A'^IJa 
and  hi*  three  sons,  it  became  his  capital ;  ami  when  CtssJi,  his 
eldest  son,  succeeded  to  the  king<lom  on  his  father**  death,  its 
name  was  cliangeii,  and  bei-ame  Cissan-crjister.  Ciss-hury,  as 
we  shall  pn'senOy  si-e,  ilerived  its  name  from  the  same  s«mree, 
£Iishiip  Stigand,  in  the  days  of  William  the  ('oiujueror,  tratis- 
Cnred  the  see  from  t»*laey  to  Cliichcster:  for  there  was  an  oldi^r 
one  than  it  Five  centuries  before  a  \-esgel  had  stranded  on 
Sebe^r  Bill,  having  on  board  St.  Wilfrid  and  his  clergy  retum- 
ing  from  the  continent.  A  Pagan  priest  hounded  on  the 
Sussex  wreckers  to  destroy  tlieni,  and  u  ficri-i-  struggle  ensuml ; 
hat  porlnnts  attended  the  saint  A  stone  ftom  a  sling  sank 
into  the  priest's  forehead ;  the  tide  came  suddenly  in  ;  the  wind 
shiftetl ;  tlie  vessel  got  out  to  sea,  and  reached  Sandwich.  And 
again,  after  a  few  years,  but  not  this  time  involuntarily,  the 
Northern  Bishop,  landing  at  the  same  place,  first  won  (he  hearts  ^ 
of  die  people  by  teaching  lliein  the  use  of  their  nets,  and  ihen 
became  himself  u  fishitr  of  men  and  taught  them  OiTistintiity. 
A  three  years'  drought,  followed  hy  famine  and  disease,  bad 
decimated  them.  By  forties  and  fifties  they  had  leaped  from 
the  rocks  in  despair  and  dashed  themselves  to  pieces.  But  as 
Bocm  ax  tlie  waters  of  baptism  had  impressed  the  sign  of  the 
cross  upon  tlieir  foreheads,  the  rain  of  heaven  fell  again — plenty 
relieved    them,    tlie    grateful    monarch   showered   gifts   on    the 

saviour 


58 


Suaex. 


saviour  of  his  people*  itnd  stmif^lit  a  sUtclj  monastery  arose  on 
the  site  of  liis  labours,  nnil  thr  sec  of  ISclMy  was  Mtablisheil.* 

A  complrte  mstoratioii  of  Chichester  Cathctlral  (a  rcatoration 
which  must   now  include    its  stocpio,  that  wcll-knonn  coontjr 
landmark,  whose  destrurtinn   ail  Sussex  mourns  as  thr  Ihsb  of  a 
vcr>'  dear  friend),  has  rallrd  attention  !m  its  many  trpasurf^,  some 
of  them  hmg  loKt  U*  sight  under  daubs  of  villahiou5  nhitt-wasli, 
specially  to  its  detacbetf  single  sliaftsof  Purbeck  marble — uai(|U<^ 
and  beautiful  specimens  of  their  class — clustered,  yet  insulated, 
round  their  central  piers.t     The  characteristics  "f  this  Ijcmutiful 
cathedral   (before  the  late  catnstroplin)  have  bmi  well  suroinnl 
up  as  consisting'  of  its  harmtiny  uf  external  eolunrin^ ;  tliL-  due  pro- 
portiun  IirtwtHMi  its  spiit;  itnd  tower;  the  pynimidal  gmuping  of 
Its  variiius  parts  ;  the  sffiittrcneis  uf  the  ahari  of  its  capitals  ;  the 
exactly  central  p<wition  of  its  spire;  the  tripUntt/  impressed  on 
itstletails;  its  fine  aisles  and   consequent  breadtli  of  nave;  utd 
its    south    tninscpt    wintlow.J      Here    was    Imrn    Collius,  one    of 
niir  best  Ip-ir   jMiets,  whi>s(T  likeness  lircatlies  in  one  of  several 
nionumpnts  with  which  Uie  genius  of  Klaxman  has  enriched  the 
cathedral ;  and  Otway,  and  Archbisliop  Uradwardine;  and  good 
Bishop  Juxon,  who  accompanied  Charles  to   the  scallold,  and 
was  worthily  prnmotrfl    bv    Ins  «>n.      Here  lies    Chilling^t-orth, 
won   hy  Land   from    Popery,  and   described  by  Tilhrtson   as   thi? 
*  ^lurv   of  his  ag<!  ami   nntiitn,'       And   close   outside  stands  thtt 
beautiful  rtrtaironal  (lothle  marl£et-cr*»ss  fmiBh(-'d    in  1500  on 
site  purriijst-d    by  HisUop   Story,  and  restored  in  1734,  with  itt 
open  arcade  and  buttresses  and  liuials  at  Ibe  angles,  whose  nichea 
held  choice  effigies,  till  despoiled  by  Waller's  army.     And  we 
are  cm  the  road  again  in  search  for  the  oh!  Homan  '  Stamvstrecl ' 
to  far-famed   Dignor.      The  skies  for  once  look   propitious  ;  and 
the  smoke  goes  up  blue  and  straight  from  the  cottage  roofs ;  th 
red  pimpernel  opens  wide  iU  petals;  die  distance  grows   ma 
hiujr ;  the  swallow  dies  higher;  the  phalanxcd  flocks  spread  on 
across  the  Downs,  ami  the/lcw  liugcrs  on  the  green  swonl ;  ao' 
the  summer  flies,  that  venture  not   their  wings  in  damp,  rome 
Sitting  before  ns,  and  fasteu  provokingly  in  hundreds  on  the  hides 
.  of  the  patient  oxen,  just  beyond  the  reach  of  their  tails.     Let  ut 
up  and  t>e  going. 

Three  great  Uoinan  roads  appear  to  have  traversed  Sussex  i  the 
first  from  west  to  east,  from  Clausetitum  (Bittern,  near  Stmtham 
tun)  to  Duhrit  (Dover) ;  the  second  from   Rcynum  (Chichester! 

•  S«e  B«1b'»  '  Ew.  Hi*!.,'  b.  vr.,  o.  13.    Mllmati's  •  HJrt.  of  Lot  Christ 
vol.  U.,  |>.  8S. 

{See  Willis's  ■  Arcbiuciuml  Uictor)'  <*f  Ctudi«st«r  CstltcUraJ.' 
'Bius.  Arcbn.  CoUecL'p.  147. 


t' 
id 

li^ 

ni^H 


iutaex. 


B9 


tn  Lotidinum;   and  the  third,  parallel  to  !t,  from  Partus  Adiirtii 
^horebam)  by  AlUrinpton,    Oitcrliliiiir,  HmiUcross,  Pea  spot  tafffti] 
uatp,  nod   tho  Giuiity  Oak,  intn   tlic  (tri«t  Loiulnti  aiul    Duvi 
RoAd  ID   Sarrcv-      It   is   the  s^^coml  uf  thfso    ninils   we   an?   not 
apjiruachinfT.      Leaving   on    tlic    \ch  Haltiakev    Down   and   UiAJ 
KTonods  nnd  park  o(  Halnnkor  House, — formcrlr  n  very  iiiteH 
mting-  »pccimcn    of    domestic   Tudor    architectare,    but   long*] 
linre  disniantled   and  now   inrorjKjrated  with  the  deint'snes  ofl 
Ciuodwond,- — -«nd  on   our   right   one   of  the   most    impurtont  vx* 
ftmples  of  Early  English  arrhiteclure  in  the  kingdom— Boxni-nvoJ 
Church, — the  only  relic,  besides  n  bam,  of  fi  once  lawous  Bene- 
dictine priory — we  make  for  Eartham,  so  lost  amon^  the  hills; 
that  we  might  well  have  passe<I   it  by,   had  we  not  a  special 
drsin-  to  lotA  in  at  a  spot  which  won  the  hearts  soecesiively  ofi 
VVIlliam  H.-iyley  *  and  William  I  luskisson.     It  was  their  favourite^ 
retreat.      And  verily  an   invitinf^  scene  it  is,  fitted  to  recruit  hy 
tts  solitudes  the  nerves  and  eneij^ies  of  a  statesman.    Tlie  cburcb 
contains  a  beautiful  uionument,  bv  Floxman,  of  Hayley's  non. 

Emerginj^  from  a  wood  into  which  we  must  plunf^e  to  regain 
our  lu-arlng*,  we  find  ourselves  on  a  causeway,  here  anti  there 
ealcn  away,  hat,  as  we  proceed  furtlier,  in  perfect  preservation, 
with  its  sides  all  clear  and  sharp  (the  cathedral  in  a  direct  \\n(t 
firom  us.  some  four  miles  south  by  west),  the  veritable  old  'Stnne- 
street'  After  breasting^  tlie  hill  for  another  mile  or  two  over  *  no 
nun's  lands,*  and  extra-parocliial  ill-farmed  grotmds^  half  rush, 
half  fnrze,  we  are  at  the  highest  point,  and  look  down  northward 
on  the  Weald  below.  The  grand  design  now  stands  revealml.  A 
gigantic  raifiral  niad,  all  *  metal,"  had  lin-n  laid  tlinvn  from  Rcg- 
num  tn  Londinum  as  straight  as  a  crow  could  fly, — which  is 
still  more  prrceptible  further  up  the  county,  as  al  Pulborongh 
and  Bi]ling:shurst,  and  especially  at  Rudgwick  ;  and  hnre  was 
lite  military  station,  the  *  first  stage  out  of  town,*  all  so  snug 
nwler  the  lee  nf  tlie  Downi,  with  tlic  villa  of  some  notable 
grandee.  This  villa,  which  so  many  thousands  have  since 
cTowde<l  to  visit,  had  lain  undiscovered,  though  tmly  a  foot 
or  two  l)rnr-iith  the  surface  of  the  soil,  till  181ft,  when  one 
Fanner  Tucker,  ploughing  with  his  yoke  of  uxen  his  f)wn  little 
frcidiohl,  i-anip  ujwm  tin-  richral  tessellated  jiavement  in  Knj;- 
land.  The  news  filled  Sussex — on  array  of  iintli|uarian8  was 
speedily  on  the  spot.  Hosts  drove  their  ffuests  a  score  or  two 
cf  milei  from  all  ports  of  the  county  to  see  the  *  lion  ;*    Mr. 

*  SwQnnn«rly  Rertrw,'  rol.  ixx'i.  Hsyley'g  jrmndi^ther  bud  bran  Data  et 
Qucboter.  EartliuDi  Uraune  luo  ex[wu>tv<;  Tor  hiiii,  au>l  after  lui  sou't  desUi  hv 
iHircd  to  bm  '  marine  livrniitagc,'  as  be  tiscti  to  call  il.  wkicb  lie  liait  hailt  'w  Uie 
wigtibotiringvillafr^  ofFelfiham, 

Tucker 


Tackcr  reaped  of  course  an  abundant  harvest ;  nnil  thenceforth 
the  pavement  of  Bignur  has  been 

hu  enjoyi^l  a  national  rrpulntiuti.  But  tlie  titbe  uf  ibc  trrasure 
(lid  nut  npiK^ar  nl  fir^U  The  InlKiiira  of  arrlinMlrigiBts  brought 
more  U>  lif^ht.  Fi^ftsb  flnnrs  vivtv  diiHntvercil,  riih  in  inlaid 
mosaic,  their  bordi'is  tUi;  fair  [>FOtnlv|K'  of  tlie  diaper  patterns  with 
which  probably,  all  unconscious  of  the  ilipnity  of  their  origin, 
our  readers  have  chosen  to  a<lom  their  hall  floors ;  llieir  interior 
picturr.it  with  gladintorinl  fights  and  games  i>(  old  Rome  in  lier 
palmiest  days;  with  n  Junu-likc  |H)rtrait  uf  Winter,  udmirabtv 
persniufied  with  a  leafless  twig  in  her  hand;  and  the  eagles 
Rape  of  Ganymede,  and  a  Medusa's  snake-bound  head. 

Having  satisfied  ourselves  with  believing  rather  less  than  we 
shall  Imvir  ht-ard  of  the  historitnl  statements  of  '  Roman  Anti- 
quities,* which  Mrs.  Tuckt-T  still  lives  to  relate,  widi  more  con- 
fidence than  ever  did  Mr.  Adam  in  our  schoolboy-days,  we  will 
reascend  the  Downs  at  Bignor  Hill,  cross  Bury  Hill,  and  leaving 
on  the  right  Houghton  woods,  and  those  two  very  pretty  seats 
Dale  Park  and  Sliwlon,  wend  our  cour$e,  filling  our  bosket  with 
mushrooms  as  we  go,  to  the  nortli  lodges  of  Arumlel  Castle^ 
skirting  its  three  miles  of  park-wall  under  its  friendly  trees,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  mist  which  is  fast  settling  into  a  confirmed 
down-pour,  and  consigning  ourselves  for  the  night  t4)  the  can; 
of  our  host  of  the  Norfolk  Arms,  in  the  gooil  town  of  Arundel. 
'The  county  is  famous,'  says  Fuller,  *  for  lx)th  Anmdel  mullets, 
Chichester  lobsters,  S<d»ey  cockles,  and  Anerley  ((|u.  AnilM'rlev  !*) 
trouta,'and,  be  might  liaveadded.  Worthing  whcntcars  ;  so  that  we 
ought  now  to  be  in  the  midst  of  these  dainties.  Tilings,  how- 
ever, have  much  deteriorate*),  in  this  respect  at  le^ast,  since  his 
day»  for  the  great  London  market  attmcts  away  cvcrvthing*. 

The  romance  of  Sir  Bevis  and  his  horse  Arundel  is  »t>  truly 
Oriental,  that  it  is  a  pity  we  cannot,  for  very  conscience,  place  tt 
among  the  legendary  lore  of  Sussex.  But  there  were  other  Sir 
Bcvises  to  acrount  for  tlie  nni^e  of  Arundel  tower  ;  whilst,  whether 
with  Sir  W.  Burrell  we  derive  the  town  itself  from  the  dell  o(  the 
Anin,  or  with  others  from  the  aruwlities  on  its  banks,  or  with  otlien 
from  '  hirondelle,'  which  forms  part  of  the  municipal  coot-of-anns, 
there  is  no  connertion  between  it  and  the  war-horse. 

No  place  in  Kngland  deserves  more  notice  than  the  Castle 
of  Arundel — a  grand  pile  of  building,  modem  for  the  most 
part  and  not  capable  of  supporting  criticism;  but  the  irj- 
grown  keep,  at  least  as  old  as  the  days  of  Henry  L,  mMj 
challenge  comparison  with  any  of  the  same  date  in  this  country. 
The  castlr  has  not  wilhstiMnl  sieges  as  others  have  ;  it  is  hut  ton 
well  known  for  its  surrender  to  Sir  William  Waller,  who  took  from 


I 


Shucr. 


^        61 


it  sevenlcfD  colours  of  foot,  two  of  liorsc,  ami  n  Uihujuuk)  priscmrrs  : 
npr  U  il  nssociatetl  witli  any  decisive  InttlfS  «r  cvwits ;  but  no 
residenci'  presents  us  with. surli  a  picture  of  feudal  times;  nooUicr 
haroiiinl  Jiomc  has  sent  forth  thirteen  dukes  and  thirty-five  earls. 
What  house  lias  been  s»i  cmiu-ctod  wiUi  our  pfijitiail  and  reli- 
gious annals  as  that  of  Howard  ?  TTie  prt'iiuers  in  the  rull-call 
of  our  nobility  hare  been  also  amoog  the  most  pernei-uted  and 
ill  iaied.  Not  to  dwell  on  the  hi^h-snirited  Isabellc  Couiitp» 
Dowa^r  of  Arundel,  atid  widow  of  liu^h,  last  Earl  of  the 
Albini  family,  who  u[>brnid<'d  Hcnrv  HI.  to  his  face  with  '  vexing; 
the  Church,  oppressinij;  the  Ixinmi;,  An<l  denyiit;^  all  his  true-born 
subjects  tlipir  rights;'  or  Richard  Earl  of  Arundel,  who  was 
executed  for  ci>nspiring  to  seize  Richard  11. — we  must  think 
with  indifi^nstion  of  the  sufferings  inflicted  by  Elizabeth  on 
Philip  Earl  of  Arundel,  son  of  the  'great'  Duke  of  Norlblk, 
beheaded  by  Elizabeth  in  1072  for  his  dealings  with  Mary 
(Juem  of  Scots.  In  the  biography  of  Earl  Philip,  which,  with 
that  of  Ann  Dacrcs  his  wife,  has  been  well  edited  by  the  late 
lamented  Duke,  we  find  th.nt  he  wa^i  caressed  hv  Elizalwtli  in 
early  life,  and  steeped  in  the  pleasures  and  vires  of  her  coart 
by  her  encouragement,  to  the  neglect  of  bis  constant  young  wife, 
whose  virtues,  as  soon  as  they  reclaime<l  him  to  his  duty  to  her^ 
rendp-red  him  hated  and  suspected  by  the  Queen,  so  that  she 
made  him  the  subject  n{  vindictive  and  incessant  pcrserutitm, 
till  deatli  released  him  at  the  age  of  lii^.  Ttt  anotlier  HtiwanI, 
Thomas,  son  of  Earl  Philip,  the  country  is  indebted  for  those 
tmsures  of  the  East,  the  Arundel  Marbles ;  though  Lord  Claren- 
don describes  him  somewhat  illnaturedly,  denying  him  all  claims 
to  learning,  or  even  to  gravity  of  cHararler.* 

Tlie  sightof  those  embattled  tciwc-rs  ctinjures  up  Wfon*  us  many 
historit:  |K;rBiinages,  whom  in  fantry  we  can  see  emerging  fr<»m 
their  venerable  gateways,  in  all  the  pride  of  youth  and  ancestry, 
whose  mouhlered  ashes  now  repose  ander  those  grey  walls.  And 
there  U>o  now  lies,  alas!  added  t<^  tlK>  number,  tlie  late  kind* 
hearted  and  amiable  Duke,  snatclieil  away,  libe  so  many  of  Itis 
forefathers,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood. 

The  tlia[H-l  of  the  'College  of  the  Holy  Trinity,*  forming 
the  choir  and  east  end  of  the  parish  church,  but  separated  from 
it  by  a  wall,  and  strangely  l«"!onging  to  the  Duke  i>f  Norfolk, 
a,  ILimaii  Catholic  peer,  ediitaias  a  fine  scrir-s  of  Fitzalan 
monuments,  which  reeal  passages  of  no  small  importance  in  the 
history  of  our  rounti'v. 


*  •  Hill.  Bcb./  ytA.  i..  ^  »9. 


Tbt 


Sussex. 


Tlic  iMuks  and  brooks  of  Arun  have  not  been  unsunpr  tiy  poet. 
Nor  arc  there  wanting  among  them  apots  of  romantic  sccnerv. 
Such,  for  instance,  is  a  natcrmill  eallca  Swanboumc,  of  remark- 
nble  antiquity.  The  traveller  by  the  main  nnd  will  miss  it,  but  il 
he  will  take  tlic  lower  one  which  Iciuts  from  Arumlel  to  the  little 
hamlet  of  Offham,  foHowing  the  right  l»nk  of  the  river,  be  urill 
come  suddenly  upon  it,  and  be  amply  repaid  for  bis  trouble. 
Mr.  Ticnicy  has  well  described  it* 

Quitting  this  peaceful  scene,  and  still  keeping:  the  right  bank 
of  the  river  (wliose  eels  and  bream,  which  onro  full  to  our  rod, 
we  see  again  in  twice  their  natural  dimeusioiis  tiirough  the  mag- 
nifying glass  of  years)  till  we  cross  it  at  Houghton  Brid^  we 
are  brought  to  a  hardly  less  interesting  relic  of  the  olden  time 
iji  Amberley  Ciisllr,  built  by  Risb"p  R<m1p  in  the  time  of 
Hidianl  II,,  and  unce  tlte  rrsidencu  of  the  Ilishojis  of  Chichester, 
to  whom  it  still  belongs.  A  more  picturcsquu  ruin  docs  not 
exist,  with  it<  masaire  round  towers,  and  dangling  Ivy,  and 
smooth  lawni  within.  A  mile  farther  east  stands  Parbam.  Tbit 
is  n  fine  specimen  of  Elizabethan  domestic  architecture,  and  its 
grey  gabh's,  hall  hung  witli  armour,  and  long  upper  gallery, 
carry  us  back  at  once  to  the  days  of  the  Virgin  Queen.  Parliam 
was  the  home  of  the  Bishopjis,  who  are  now  represented 
by  its  ornicr  the  Baroness  de  la  Zouch.  This  lady'a  sou,  the 
author  of  the  original  and  charming  volume  on  the  *  Monos- 
tmes  in  the  Levant/  has  enriched  the  mansion  with  a  museum 
of  Kastern  art.  Parham  indeeil  ist  a  j)erfect  mine  of  urt-trcasures. 
Marty  MSS.  and  printed  books,  ancient  platL-,  enamels,  and 
carvings,  historical  portraits,  and  swonls  and  breaiitptates  which 
are  hardly  less  historical— among  them  some  armour  of  tha 
Christian  knights  who  defended  Constantinople  against  the 
Suttan  Mahumet  II. ,  in  the  year  1452 — arc  but  a  few  of  the  at- 
tractions of  the  place.  And  the  park  affords  studies  of  licautifnl 
forest  scenery.  But  we  must  not  linger  here,  even  to  visit  tlie 
heronry,  nor  wander  farther  from  tlie  Downs.  Mount  we  the 
steep  hill  at  the  back  of  the  Castle,  it  will  repay  us  though 
it  tests  the  soundness  of  our  lungs,  and  we  shall  tread  for  five 
miles  over  Kithnrat  Down  to  Flighden  IWehes  a  very  nce- 
course  of  turf  for  velvety  smoothness;  then  turn  we  right, 
to  enter  n  still  wilder  rountry,  l>etwi:-eii  Black  Patch  and  a. 
loue  sugar-loaf  hill,  Mnunt  Harry,  rank  with  luxuriant  pas- 
tange,  which  no  foot  of  man  or  horse  ever  crosses  aavc  the 
shepherd-boy  or  the  racera  from  yonder  Mlchclgrove  in  thctv 


« 


I 


4 


*  Ticni«y'a'llut.af  tbcCull«audTo«aof  AruodvVp.  7S& 


morning 


SlUMI, 


68 


niarninj^  canter.  And  so  onward  to  anotlipr  qunint  nid  bill 
called  Peppering,  covertd  with  loose  woat]»er-woni  Rints  ami 
wrinkled  iritb  d^kcs  and  tumuli,  and  Anf^imn;;  will  lie  t>olVirn 
us,  fanied  tor  its  licruns,  wliJcli,  ns  wc  arc  told  in  Air.  Knox's 
nlensnnt  volume,  I'ominL;  <iri^inftll_\  fnini  Coitv  Castle  in  VV'aies 
in  t)ic  time  ol' James  I.,  fiivt  Uxik  win^  to  Pensliurst  in  Kent, 
theace  fomid  refuse  here,  and,  when  llieae  tnll  trees  were  felled, 
migiated  to  Par  ham. 

A  sigh  for  the  cuursuigs  on  ^Ulftck  Patch  I '  Wc  remember, 
with  a  ^yearninp  f<ir  bv-gtme  days,  those  huge  undisturbed 
*  Voil«T$'  {j'alUitcs)  uadcr  the  Ice  of  tJint  junijHrr-studditl  hill,  from 
which,  no  unusual  thixig,  tht-  cxjicricncM)  eye  of  keeper  or  of 
Kbopherd  could  count  in  a  momiug  hi  their  forms  a  scdir  nf 
strong  Dovfu  harci.  TLcn  sprang  the  well-matched  greyhounds 
liuu  ihc  leash,  and  all  was  lost  to  sight  awhile,  for  puss  bad  beat 
them  up  the  steep  hill-sides,  but  not  for  hmg;  now,  now  they 
tum  her,  and  she  makes  again  for  Itnmc,  imd  they  kill  on  the 
table-loud  at  Muallmni  Well  lIuiUMt.  Oh  I  there  never  was  such 
a  courting -ground  as  thai ! 

Alas  I  too,  for  tlie  glories  of  Michclgrove,  when  the  old  house 
was  Etaiiding,  once  t)ie  home  of  the  Shclleys,  and,  in  older  times 
stUlfjuirt  uf  the  enormous  holdings  of  that  great  Sussex  pturnlist 
De  Hntuse ;  where  wc  dance^l  the  old  jrear  out  and  the  new 
vcar  in,  what  timt-,  in  tlie  }ialm\  couching  davs,  our  host,  great 
in  liaudling  the  'ribbons,'  horsed  and  drove  his  own  favourite 
drag  over  the  bleak  Downs  to  the  '  White  Horse'  at  Fetter  l^ne^ 
aod  took  without  compunction  the  *  Something,  Sir,  for  the 
couhman?'  Full  many  a  drizzling  autumn  day  you  might 
miml  him,  with  hayband  for  hatband,  seated  in  solitary  stato 
upon  his  box,  on  his  way  to  'mildly  bracing'  Bogiior.  Now 
scarce  a  vestige  remains  of  tlie  niagnificeut  Gothic  mansion  on 
which  so  many  thousands  were  expended,  and  In  M'hich  Judge 
Sbeltey  entertained  Henry  the  Eighth :  and  the  place  thereof 
knows  it  no  more. 

TsJcing  the  rail  to  Worthing,  and  bestowing  a  thought  upon 
that  pteusajit  hill  to  our  left,  just  where  the  engine  begins  to  let 
olF steam,  if  not  upon  eccentric  Miller  Oliver,  whose  funeml  was 
Utende<l  there,  some  seventy  years  ago,  by  all  the  country  round, 
Uld  whose  tombstone  surmounts  it,  we  find  ourselves  in  the 
decloral  pamllelngrttin,  extending  thniugh  the  breadtli  of  thr 
county  with  a  width  of  some  Um  or  twelve  milt-s,  known  as  the 
IU]Mf  of  Brambcr — another  portion  of  De  Hraose's  lion's  share  of 
the  Conquest.  The  etymology  of  *  Kape '  still  vexes  the  learned  ; 
it  appears  to  be  tiscd  nowhere  else,  as  a  territorial  term,  but  in 

Iceland, 


^ 


Icvlanci,  and  it  is  remarkable  that  each  of  the  five  districts 
(but  mime  iiiU>  which  this  county  is  divided  has  its  own  port 
ami  castle,  Somner  thinks  the  word  may  be  derived  from  the 
Ariglo-tkixoji  ivord  rape,  'a  rope' — as  if  these  portions  of  land 
were  measured  and  divided  by  roi>rs." 

On  leaving  Worthinjr,  Broad  water  first  meets  us,  with  its  square 
scmi-Norman  tower  and  rich  interior  arches,  and  its  'Green,' 
tliat  loved  *  practice  ground,'  for  dxe  County  *  eleven,'  in  the  days 
when  it  could  bent  the  Country' ;  and  Offington,  with  its  gray 
shingle  gables,  formerly  the  residence  of  tlie  Lords  Delawarr ; 
and,  just  I)eT<md  where  the  four  roads  meet,  the  Mill  of  Salviag- 
ton — Salvinglon,  the  birthplace  of  John  Selden  ;  and  Tarring, 
with  its  luscious  fig-garden  (^whose  parent  trees  tradition  holds 
were  brought  by  Thomas  a  Beeket  from  Italy),  and  its  wortliy 
vicar,  Sctuthey's  son-in-law,  who  lias  found  in  his  *  Seaboard  and 
the  Down'  so  much  vent  for  his  {uistoral  musings  and  exuberant 
aptitude  for  quotation,  but  who  has  not  given  us,  we  think^  that 
amount  of  U*cn.\  knowledge  which  we  had  a  right  to  expect  from 
the  topogmphical  title  of  his  book.  Soon  the  woods  of  Clapham 
oppti  on  tht*  left,  and  we  pass  over  Findon  Church  Hill,  and  by 
tlie  kennel  from  which  for  so  many  years  rang  out  the  music  of 
its  favourite  *  subscription  pack,*  and  Muntham,  with  its  formal 
groves  and  rookeries,  noted  for  good  truffles,  and  buried,  like  so 
many  Sussex  seats,  just  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Downs — the 
residence  of  the  mechanician  Fraidcland,  and  now  of  the  Dowager 
Marchioness  of  Hath, 

It  shall  be  September  T2th,  and  here  over  the  hills,  as  far  u 
the  eye  can  reacb,  come  on  in  serried  Itands,  compact  as  Mace- 
donian phalanxes,  and  musical  as  marria^c-bells,  each  with  tbeir 
sage  and  shaggy  onlcrly,  hundreds  of  Hocks  of  8outhdowns, 
all  for  the  great  annual  shepp-fair  «>f  Findon — pictures  of  health 
and  beauty,  so  ciran  and  criMmy  white,  for — 

*  Tho  Bheop-ehearingH  arc  over,  luid  harv^  <lrawi3  nigh.* 

It  ii  a  sight  worth  lingering  for.  But  we  must  not  stay  ;  for 
Tight  opposite,  athwart  the  narrow  valley,  stands  the  monarch  of 
our  SusariL  bills,  with  its  many  lights  and  shadows,  and  outlines 
of  niundcil  beauty — veSeXrfycperrj'i  Chanctonbury.  Here  we  sec 
but  the  bock  of  him  ;  his  front,  like  a  king,  he  presf-nts  to  the 
fair  plains  below,  for  forty  miles  an<l  more:  there  he  flings  his 
steep  sides  down,  all  sheer  and  bluff:  on  this  side  we  shall 
easily  ascend  him.  How  stiff  and  formal  is  the  great  Weald 
luapjKd    out    ill    p<'rsjK*rti%'c    from     his     beech -wood    coronet! 


Sussex. 


65 


we 


Wliat  a  calm  broods  over  that  vast  panorama,  thougli 
know  tlic  busy  world  to  hv  as  wic-kcd  mid  unquiet  tlierc  as  elic- 
wberel  ilow  level  all  I  and  yel  wo  know  tJs  iiut  so — so  cotn- 
pletely  does  a  lofty  eminence,  in  nature  as  in  mind,  dwindlt;  all 
minor  incfjuaUtics — fjntciously  overlooking  ihcra.  And  then 
thfre  is  it*  twin  unwieMy  neighbour  Cissbury,  but  two  miles  off; 
like  Chichester,  a  raonument  of  Ciua's  prowess,  bulging  witb  its 
dce|i  and  perfect  fVisse,  and  like  nothing  so  much  as  a  hu^ 
sponge-cake:  as  if  it  had  tumbled  by  accident  among  ihiise  quiet 
prazing  grounds,  treeless  and  shrubless ;  and  there  is  pcaceiul 
FindoD  once  more  (for  we  have  made  the  circuit  of  the  bowl, 
and  lo4»k  on  it  from  the  other  rim).  Immediately  belfjw  Clianc- 
tonbury  Hcs  VViKton  Fark,  with  a  halt  infrrinr  tii  none  in  tlu> 
county,  the  seat  of  the  ^hirleys  and  Fit^^s,  and  throui;b  thtr 
Faggs  of  the  Gorings;  and  then  we  must  descend  the  bill 
to  Steynjng,  if  not  (as  wc  are  much  inclined)  to  tarry  for  the 
night  at  its  cntnfortnble  hostelry,  at  least  to  linger  in  the  fim* 
old  Norman  church  wluch  c'ontains  the  n:mains  of  Klhclwulf 
and  St  Cuthman.  Here,  however,  tlie  imagination  of  our 
readers  must  be  again  invoked,  for  we  arc  treading  on  tlie 
borders  of  romance;  nor  can  we  tell  exactly  it'Ac/i  the  saint 
lived.  As  he  was  the  patron  of  Steyning,  so  ought  he  Ut 
be  also  of  Sussex  shepherds ;  for  he  drew  a  mystic  circle  witb 
his  crouk  upon  the  Doivn,  and  bade  his  sheep  keep  within 
it  till  he  returned  from  dinner,  ami  they  marvellously  obeyed 
bim.  Next  we  find  him  conveying  an  aged  mother  in  a  wheel- 
barrow ;  but  the  cord,  which  he  bad  looped  over  his  shotihlers- 
lo  support  it,  snappetl  as  hn  was  crossing  a  hay  field,  and  tbt* 
hajrmakurs  jeered  bim  ;  so  in  revenge  he  ever  alter  sent  annual 
riiowcrs  about  bay  hardest  to  spoil  their  crop.  Mc  soon  managedr 
however,  to  prop  up  his  barrow  again  with  elder-twigs ;  tliuugh 
they  too,  in  their  ttini,  gave  way.  This  time,  interpreting  his 
intprruptttm  as  a  Divine  revelation,  he  haltcil  finally,  awl 
founded  un  the  »{)ot  what  was  afterwards  matured  into  the  parish^ 
church. 

Let  us  go  a  mile  further,  and  ruminate  in  that  quaint  old^ 
mnrsct  of  tower  at  Btamber,  which  still  stands  the  sieges  of  the 
south- westers,  beat  they  never  so  tempestuously ;  and  rouiKl 
ivhich  the  daws  and  rooks  are  clustering  now,  as  they  have  clus- 
tercU  for  centnrirs — the  sole  surviving  representative  of  tlic 
stronghold  and  bfad-<|uarters  of  Dc  Braosc ;  and  from  this- 
quiet  resting-place  there  is  a  very  striking  finish  to  tliis  bowl  of 
DawDKy  if  we  will  rmscend  them  (still  on  tbt?  Chanctonbury 
™nK^)i  ■nt't  leaving  (,'issbury  on  the  right,  with  the  Adur  wind- 
ing post  the  little  villages  of  Coombes,  Uotolpbs,  and  Applesbam 

\'ul  112.— JVV.  223.  F  on. 


on  thr  left,  and  passing  over  Steep  HIU,  one  of  tlic  boldest  ftnd 
luiiclicst  of  tlif  fiituf  range,  descend  Xjkuciug  Down  by  the 
Mill  ami  Mr.  Wtiodard's  Collc^. 

Strolling  through  the  piraaant  villages  of  Laacini;  and  Sompt- 
iog,  and  paying  especial  attention  to  the  church  of  the  latter — 
to  portions  of  which  a  Saxon  origin  is  assigned— we  may  retrace 
our  slejis  to  Worthing,  and  thence  set  out  for  the  Ixild'^r  outlines 
of  the  eastern  di>~ision  of  the  county.  Not  thai  it  is  so  favourite 
a  district  as  the  western  one:  less  thriving  homesteads  cover  it, 
for  bluff  headlands  take  the  place  of  the  rich  alluvial  plains  of 
the  seaboard  ;  fewer  mansions  ornament  its  sunny  southern  slopes  ; 
fewer  hill-sides  are  brought  under  the  plough,  or  ginlleil  with 
plantations ;  everything  is  pKjrer,  but  in  projwirtion  grander, 
and  dearer  therefore  to  the  tourist.  Yet  here  the  white  rliffii 
first  appear ;  and  here  the  hops  come  in,  vying  with  those  of 
Kent.  Here,  when  summer  suns  are  plentiful,  and  Scpt<'mber 
has  bf owned  those  lianging  gardens,  the  tmvL-ller  will  j)n^  i-urnn- 
ture<l  througli  their  phiLsimt  vistas  and  natural  arbours,  blithe 
with  the  merry  hum  of  a  peasant  people  storing  the  easy  harvest 

At  Shorrham  the  Adur  discharges  itself  into  the  sen  under  the 
suspension-bridge — dispru|virtiaualfly  handsome  to  the  town — 
erccleil  by  a  late  Duke  of  Xurfulk.  We  will  eschew  those  six 
miles  of  uninviting  rcmd,  over  which  William  IV.  took  his  daily 
airing  thmugh  all  the  Brighton  coal-carts,  and  strike  once  more 
for  the  aorthem  escarpment  of  the  Downs.  It  is  a  bold  range 
lbat,abo^-cFulking  and  Gdburton  aitd  Castle  Hill  and  Perching, 
aod  so  to  the  DeviKs  Dyke,  where,  alas  I  there  is  now  a  {iCTma- 
nent  inn,  and  n  two-horse  coach  to  Brighton,  and  a  gipsy  or  two 
all  day  from  I'oynings — the  vicar  should  know  Uus — to  whisper 
nonsense  to  Brighton  belles. 

The  chief  feature  of  the  Dyke  is  not  so  much  the  view,  though 
that  is  6ne,  as  the  Dyke  itself,  which,  though  all  the  wond 
passes  the  bead  of  It  in  rnming  from  Brighton,  few  see,  we  sus- 
pect, from  the  right  point.  ll.s  unearthly  appearance,  if  wc  take 
the  trouble  of  descending  into  it,  has  well  procured  for  it  a 
supernatural  similitude,  and  justifies  the  tradition  th-nt  the  £vU 
One  dug  it  to  let  in  the  sea  am)  deluge  tlie  county,  *  eiiv^  ing  the 
numerous  churches  of  tlie  Weald.'  Bui  tlte  pliui  was  disron- 
ccrteil — so  the  \'ulgar  superstition  runs — by  an  old  wmnan,  who, 
being  disturbed  from  her  sleep  by  the  noise  of  the  work,  peeped 
out  of  lier  window,  and.  recognising  the  infernal  agent,  had  the 
presence  of  mind  to  hold  up  a  candle,  which  he  mistook  for  the 
ridng  sun.  and  beat  a  liasty  retreat ! 

That  bold,  round,  forward  hill,  three  miles  eastwanl,  is 
Wolatonburj- ;  below  it  aire  Poynings,  with  its  stately  cruciform 

church, 


I 


ffllWIf. 


B7 


diurch,  ami  SacldlRScnmli,    and  Newtimber  Hill  witb  its  wood- 
frin*«I  down,  and  Dannv,  and  a  l!ttlc further  the  lj«iutiful  modem 
spire  of  Hurst pierpoiot,  with  It«  school  for  the  mi<ldle  classes. 
But  WoUionbury  ueservea  the  three  milca'  walk,  it  is  so  undo- 
nialilv  Rnman,  ami  its  cnrtliM'orks  amnn^  the  most  rcmarkahle  in 
the  conntv.     So  we  will  cross  dir  London  rond  at  Pipc-nmb  to  it, 
without   (we  hope)   the  drenching  and   bewildering  mist  wbirh 
OTertook  us  the  Inst  time  wc  explored  it     We  shall  return,  of 
cooTic,  to  Brighton  for  the  night,  lenring  on  our  right  the  little 
hill-*nc!oM?d  villiiges  of  Portslade,  Hatijflcton,  and  Blatehington. 
Though  standing  unrivalled  as  a  watering-place,  nod  coming 
within  our  Down  circle  as  esspnttally  *a  city  among  the  hills, 
Brijchton — whosp  old  name,  Brighthelmston,   means  the  ton,  or 
cultivates!    enclosure,  of  perhaps   some   Saxon   j^aXKOKopwrrij'Sf 
or  Brighthelm— has  few  antiquarian  or  historical  associations; 
whilst    to  fashionable    guide-books  WR    must  leave    its    modem 
pnitsi^.      In   common   witli   other  parts  of  tlie  Sussex    coast^   it 
tras  cfflitinnallT  bnrassrd  by  threats  of  French  invasion;  as  in.' 
1515  and  154S,  and  again  in  1586,  on  whicb  occasions  French 
flppts  rode  in  the  ofiing,  and  in   one   instance   eflected  a   landing; 
anil    here,  after   the   battle  of  M'tireester,  and    after    lying   c'^h>-| 
craled  at  a  farm  at  Ovingdemi,  Charles   II.  tiH>k  ship  and  fl(^ 
for  Normandy;  and  a  fulstime  inscription  is  placed  in  the  old  I 
church  to  the  commander  on  that  occasion  of  the  '  Royal  Escape,*  i 
wlio   at    the    Kcstomtion   obtained  promotion  as    Constable    of| 
Brighton,  but  figures  no  more  in  historj'. 

Of  the  Pavilion,  which  so  provoked  Cobbctt's  ire,  in  his  *  Rural! 
Rides,'  the  less  said  the  better.      So  we  shall  take  our  leave  of  it, 
as  soon  as  wc  arc  able,  by  the  Ditchling  road,  and  |>assiug  Hol-j 
lingsbury  Casdc,  which   is  the  only  archaeological   relic  in  thej 
xubiirl»,  and  the  pnrk-walls  of  Stanmer,  shall   emerge  again  <m\ 
the  highest  downs  at  Ditchling  Beacon,  pursue  the  stem  ritlgel 
of    Plumpton    Plain,    with    the    pleasant    villages   of   Clayton,' 
Kpymrr.  Wcrtmoston,  and  Plumpton  below, — mul  sit  down  on 
Rlark  Cap  Hill  above  Comlse  Place,  the  pn-tty  residenct^  of  thel 
SbitTners— a  miniature  Wistnn  under  a  miniature  Clianclonhurjr 
— and   so  over  Mount   Harry  and   the  race-course,  into  the  old 
rtniuty-town  of  Lewes,  replete  with  objects  of  interest.      It  was 
Plumpton    Plain   that  Kay  had  in  his  mind  when  he  speaksj 
nf  *  that    ravishing  prospect  of  the   sea  on   one   haml,   and   thel 
country-   far   nnd   wide   on    the   other,   which    those  so   kcenlj 
rhii  live  in  a  fen  country,  and  for  the  Hrst  time  visit  the 


Io» 


Downs  of  Sussex.'  • 


Mount  Hnrry  perpetuates  the  discomfiture  of  Henry  III.  by 
the  Insurgmit  Ixirons,  under  De  Montfort,  at  the  battle  oi  Lewes, 
on  the  14th  of  May,  12G4.  Mr.  Blaouw,*  has  given  us  a  minute 
account  of  it;  how  Prince  Edwai-U,  with  his  division  uf  ihc 
Royal  army,  was  victorious  in  the  early  part  of  the  day,  but 
lost  it  by  pursuing  too  far  the  Londoners  to  whom  he  was  oi^ 
posed,  and  bore  an  es|}erial  ^uil^e,  for  havinf^  *  insulted  the 
queen  his  mother  on  her  ivay  by  water  one  day  from  the  Tower 
to  VVindsor,  and  thrown  stones  and  dirt  at  her ;'  how  tlie  barons 
were  ordered  to  wear  white  rifjsws  on  their  hacks  anrl  breasts, 
to  show  they  fought  fur  justice ;  how  tlie  Kin^  was  routed  and 
fled  to  tlic  prior}',  and  the  Prince  remained  with  the  liarons  as 
an  hostfflgc  for  the  jH-rformancc  of  the  treaty  they  agreed  on ;  how 
tlie  'Miac'  of  Lewes  was  carried  out,  and  how  Prince  Edward 
afterwards  escaped  by  the  swiftness  of  his  hor»',  and  avenged 
his  father  at  Evesham. 

Here  stood  for  many  ages  the  wealthy  and  magnificent  prlorj 
of  Lewes,  founded  by  William  de  Warennc,  to  whom  tlie  Con- 
querur  bail  given  his  daughter  Gundredu  in  marriage.  The 
noble  patrons  had  set  out  in  a  spirit  of  religious  fervour  on  a 
pilgrimage  to  Home,  but  were  diverted  from  their  pmiMse  by 
the  wars  then  raging  between  the  Em]N^^or  and  the  Pope.  So 
they  turned  aside  to  the  famed  monastery  of  Cluny,  and  pre- 
vailed on  the  good  abbot  there  to  send  them  over  a  bevy  ol' 
umnks  to  take  cluirge  of  their  new  institution.  Straight  the 
stately  structure  arose,  and  for  five  centuries  received  coimtlcss 
treasures  into  its  coffers,  so  that  it  became  the  wealthiest  founda- 
tiuo  in  the  south.  Then  came  the  great  reverse — the  Diasola- 
tion ;  and  all  its  greatness  jwissed  away  and  was  forgotten, — all 
but  a  slab  forming  Gundreda's  uiatbh?  tombstone,  rirhly  sculp- 
tured in  bas-rclicf,  which  was  found  about  a  century  ago  in  the 
chancel  of  a  neighbouring  church.  The  discovery  of  its  most 
interesting  monument  was  reserved,  as  in  so  manyotlier  cases,  for 
humble  instruments.  The  land  liad  jKissed  through  the  cumpuU 
sory  clauses  of  a  Railway  Act  into  the  unromantlc  clutches  of 
the  London  Brighton  and  South -Coast  Company,  and  the 
navviis  scra]>ed  their  pickaxes  by  chance  one  day  against  the 
veritable  leaden  coffins  of  the  noble  founders.  Lewes,  ever  the 
headH|uarters  of  Sussex  archictilogy,  was  in  a  ferment,  and  so  was 
the  county.  A  fitting  receptacle  was  soon  deviseil  for  the  bodiciL 
Tliey  had  l>een  found  in  the  parish  of  Southover  (and  certainly 
may  !«■  said  tu  have  gained  a  legal  settlement  there,  if  anywhere). 
— in  Suuthover  they  should  remain.    A  small  Nurman  chapel  wu 


■  The  Bsrons'  Wsr,'  Ij  \Y.  B.  BUauw. 


Lwdoii,  1844. 

accordingly 


SiufCj; 


« 


accorilingl}'  built—*  Gumlreda'E  cliaprl ' — ncljiiining  tbe  mother- 
church;  and  there  He  the  coffins  side  by  side,  open  to  any  one 
to  inspect.  The  bejiutiful  black  tombstone  is  reclaimed,  and 
laid  drcontlv  on   fnir  cnmustic  tiles. 

In  a  garden  behind  a  cIkijwI  in  tJii'  Inwn  U  thf  burving-place 
of  tlic  eccentric  William  lluiitington,  with  an  epitaph  on  lits 
tomb,  dictated  by  himself,  brginning — 'Here  lies  the  coalheaver, 
beloved  of  his  God,  but  abhorred  of  men  ;'  and  signed  *  W.  H., 
S,S.'  (Sinner  Saved).* 

We  must  not  leave  Lewes  without  exploring  the  singularly 
detachc<l  bowl  of  I>i>wns,  which  rises  immediately  behind  it, 
befjinnin<(  with  the  'Clifie,'  and  endinfj^  with  that  abrupt  and 
conical  Inndniark  Mount  Caburn.  But  the  Hifle  V'ohinteers  may 
be  out.  Tliry  are  very  fond  n(  the  deep  ravines  whirh  abniind 
there,  and  serve  as  natural  Imlts  fur  their  practice-pnninds,  Sii 
we  must  keep  an  especial  limk  out  for  red  danger-flags.  But 
if  all  is  well,  the  insulated  position  of  this  group  of  hills  will 
enable  us  to  command  the  whole  northtirn  ridge  of  die  Dtuvns, 
looking  across  tlie  Glyndc  and  Palmer  valh-ys  to  the  east  and 
west,  and  down  the  Li'wes  Levels  to  Newhaven  to  the  south. 
We  tread  here,  too,  among  many  vestiges  of  the  past — haunts 
dear  to  tliose  staunch  Susses  men,  who  have  done  so  mucb 
for  the  catisc  of  provincial  archieology — Mr.  Blaauw,  Mr.  Bleu- 
cowe,  and  Mr.  Lower — as  the  many  remains  preserved  in  the 
keep  of  Lewes  Castle,  the  peaceful  emporium  now  of  relics  of 
more  troublous  times,  will  testify.  Here,  too,  we  look  down 
on  a.  snccession  of  pleasant  villages — OfTham,  and  Hamsey,  niid 
Ringmer  —  the  latter  with  the  comfortable  mansion  nf  Mr, 
Brand — and  S»outh  Mailing,  an  archiepiscnpal  manor  of  Can- 
terbury, and  as  late  as  the  fourteenth  rentury  invested  with 
•upematural  terrors  from  t!ie  popular  tradition  connected  with 
the  morderers  of  Beckct,  so  wcjl  t"!d  by  Dr.  Stanley  in  liis 
■  Memorials  of  Canterbury  :' — '  Tliey  rode  t*t  Siiltwoud  uie  night 
of  the  deed  :  the  next  day  (forty  miles  by  tLe  coast)  to  Soutli 
Mailing.  On  entering  the  house  they  threw  off  their  arms  and 
trappings  on  the  duiing-table,  which  stood  in  the  hall,  and  after 
■npper  gathered  round  the  blazing  hearth.  Suddenly  the  table 
started  back,  and  direw  its  burden  Ui  the  ground.  The  atten<l- 
anta,  roused  by  the  crash,  rushed  in  with  lights,  and  replucc<l 
the  arms.  But  soon  a  second  and  still  louder  crash  was  heard, 
and  the  various  articles  were  thrown  still  further  off.  Sidillers 
servants  with  torches  ccramblod  in  vain  umler  the  solid 


*  See  in  snicle  on  the  ir. irks  of  the  Kev.  W.  Huntlngtw, '  QuAlt«rl;  Rcrier.' 
vol.  xxiv.,  p.  462. 

taUe. 


70 


Suasei. 


table  to  find  the  cause  of  Its  convulsions ;  till  one  of  the  con- 
science-stricken kniglits  suggested  that  it  vfa$  indignaotlj 
refusing  to  bear  the  sacrilegious  burden  of  their  arms — iho 
earliest  and  most  memorable  inktanrc/  odds  Dr.  Stanley,  'of  » 
rapping,  leaping,  and  tuniiiig  table,*  * 

Here,  to<»,  are  the  Lewies  Levelti,  whifdi,  accurding  to  Gideon 
Mantell,  himstdf  a  native  of  Lewes,  hare  seen  so  many 
sequences  of  physical  changes,  liaving  been  originally  saltr 
water  estuaries,  inhabited  by  marine  shell-fish ;  then,  as  the 
iidet  gn:w  narrow,  and  the  water  only  brackish,  frcfih-watcr 
shells  were  fir&t  mingled  with  them,  and  then  predominated. 
Then  a  peaty  swamp,  formed  by  the  drifted  trees  and  plants 
from  the  forest  of  Audrcadswald,  and  Icrn-strial  quadrupeds, 
b^^camo  imbedded  in  the  morass ;  lastly,  the  soil,  iuuudated 
by  land  floods,  became  an  oozy  marsh,  which  has  been  since 
converted  into  a  fertile  tract-t  Here,  too,  we  gaze  with  won- 
der at  the  many  churches,  some  without  a  house  near  them, 
which  testify  cither  to  the  thriving  sea-side  population  of  remote 
times,  or  to  the  piety  of  our  forefathers,  or  l<)  Ixith.  Within  the 
narrow  comjm&s  of  the  Levels  we  trace  between  Lewes  and  New- 
haven  (a  run  of  five  or  six  miles  only)  no  fewer  titan  nine  or  ton 
churches  : — On  our  left,  Beddingham  and  Ucighton,  and  Toning 
Neville  and  Denton;  on  the  right,  Kingston  and  Southcasc; 
Kodwcll ;  Piddlnghoc,  with  its  singular  round  tower  j  and  Tels- 
combc,  probably  the  most  retired  village  in  Sussex.  And  so  we 
drop  down  by  mil  i>r  water  tii  Newhaven,  where  Louis  Philippe 
and  his  Queen  landed  after  flying  fruui  Fnuicr  in  the  ch^iructcr  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith.  Nothing  prevents  Newhaven  from  becoming 
a  first-rate  icatcring  place,  but  its  water^  which  the  old  p«'opIc  dc- 
scriljt'  as  '  very  aguish  I'  So  the  hotel  is  supplied  frum  Lewea, 
Ncwiiaven  Church  we  have  ulrendy  mcntioni-d.  TTn'  view,  as  we 
climb  the  'Castle  Hill,'  becomes  very  suiking  ;  whedier  we  loc^ 
npon  a  ripptclrss  hot  sea,  with  the  arriving  and  departing  daily 
ContiDcnial  service  boats  in  the  otling,  easily  cicuvitig  the  satin 
sturface,  or  whether,  as  Is  more  frequent,  the  great  billows  come 
boiling  and  surging  in  against  tbe  headland  under  a  soulli* 
wester ;  and  the  pitching  naft  labour  to  make  the  narrow  har- 
bour, straining  through  every  cord  and  timber.  The  Sussex 
geolo^st  bids  us  look  again  at  this  hill,  as  one  of  tbe  *  wonders 
"  geology  j'  for  immwliaU-ly  lirneath  the  turf,  150  feet  al»ovc 
sea-level,  if  we  will  examiun  it,  there  is  a  regular  sea-beach 
with  oystcr-shclla,  and  other  marine  remains.     The  same  phe- 


*  ■  M«m.  of  C«nl«rbui7,'  p.  8«. 

t  •  Wondere  of  Gvologj,'  vol.  i,  p.  6X 


Domenoily 


Slt$9€X' 


n 


Domenon,  due  to  the  change  which  time  has  prrxluced  in  thiftiiig 
the  onginnl  position  of  the  strata,  occurs  at  KottiQ<;dcan. 

R*-tuiiiiiig'  inland,  :iml  kpepiixg-  the  high  ground  behind  the  iiw 
liule  villu<^-i  wc  have  ainmdv  nainei],  on  the  right  Imnk  of  the 
Oose  (of  which  Kingston  gives  ite  name  ti>  the  most  rotn- 
maoding  hill  of  the  bowl),  we  make  once  luun-  fur  tlie  quueu 
of  watering-places.  As  wc  near  it,  still  keeping  the  high  graund, 
we  meet,  fur  the  first  time  fur  several  hours,  an^'thing  like  cuui- 
pan}' ;  equestrians  trying  the  paces  uf  their  summer  hacks  on 
the  natural  racecourse,  with  smart  grooms  behind  them  ;  and, 
OS  we  get  n(*arer,  sch(xjls  of  either  sex  braving  the  breezes,  and 
boys  collecting  with  jtrauze  nets  bluoand-brown-tinted  butterflies 
for  inaseums  and  entomutogists ;  as  the  'Grayling,'  and  the 
*Corydon'  or  'Chalk  Hill  blue,'  the  *  Artaxerxes,'  and  the 
'Grizxiud  Skipper.'  Then,  if  we  diverge  to  our  left,  when  wo 
reach  Newmarket  Mill,  and  the  New  Brighton  Union  (which  its 
guanliang  have  planted  on  so  bleak  a  spot  that  wc  only  hope  they 
d(i  iMil  stint  the'|>anpfTs'  fuel),  we  ought  not  to  miss  thr  tlirrt-  nrans 
— WiKlinj^ran,  Kotlitigih-nn,  nnd  Ovingtlean  ;  the  latter  a  well- 
carefl  for  little  villaf^o,  UL-sj>eaking  tlin  prcsenci!  of  a  gentle 
squire; — and  we  shall  have  lost  nothing  by  the  d^our  of  more 
importnnce  tlian  tliat  grrat  county  landmark  and  eyesore — the 
Brighton  Race  Stand,  which,  except  in  the  first  week  of  August, 
is  about  the  must  uninteresting  edifice  in  Kngland.  Aud 
su,  following  the  rarl-ride  from  Ovingdean,  we  shall  come,  in 
a  short  quarter  of  an  hour,  from  one  of  the  quietest  little  villages, 
into  the  midst  of  the  gay  esplanade  and  stately  mansions  of 
Kemp  Town. 

The  cltiT-wulk  back  from  Brighton  to  Newhnven  is  hardly 
worth  the  trouble,  so  we  will  transport  ourselves  thither  next  day 
by  the  acute-iuigleil  railroad,  and  get  on  our  feet  again  there  for 
the  Scaford  b»twl.  Tlus  now  neglected  town  of  Seaford  is 
perhaps  the  most  interesting  one  of  tlie  entire  coast.  A  member 
of  the  Cinque  Ports,  and  prosperons  long  before  the  ('iuque 
Port*  themselves,  returning  two  Members  to  Parliament  till  ^the 
Heform  Bill,  a  Cor^wration  from  the  time  of  Ucury  Vlll.  (and 
not  retaining,  wc  may  be  sure,  that  privilege  without  tlie  s<|uab- 
bles  and  jealousies  incident  to  small  munlcijmlities),  L'sposed 
taare  to  the  former  devastations  of  the  French,*  and  the  present 
ravages  of  the  sea  (which  here  breaks  full  on  the  unprtitccted 
shingle),  than  any  other  place  along  the  coast,  it  deserves  more 
thmn  a  passing  nutice,  though  we  must  refer  for  its  full  memo- 

'  •  What  time  the  FTvuch  wugbt  to  bkra  nckt  SsaToord, 
This  Pdih&in  did  rt^pei  'em  \mek  nboord.' — 

Sir  Xidivta*  PeOtam't  ittmvmetU  in  8t,  Sfkha^i  Chur^  t«vet. 

ti&U 


I 


rials  to  on  able  and  interesting  article  by  Mr.  Lower,  in  the 
Sussrx  (Villfttion*.  But  wliere  is  the  port?  No  vestige  of  it 
remains:  the  tradition  l)eing  that  the  sea  ones  came  in  on  ths 
present  beuch  and  tDWii  frum  the  East  Cliff,  flowing  up  the  vallpy 
ns  fur  as  Sutton,  and  that  the  salt  mnrsh,  nnw  such  a  iliaadvaiibigs 
to  tlic  place,  was  in  fact  the  harhnur,  communicating  with  the 
Ouse  and  flowing  oul  at  the  Tide  Mills;  the  opening  at  NVw- 
haren  beinp,  as  the  name  seems  to  indicate,  of  artifuial  and 
modern  origin.  In  the  snme  way  the  Adur,  at  Slmrt'ham,  has 
been  deflected  from  its  original  course  by  an  enormous  shingle-  ^^ 
bedj  which  obliges  it  to  follow  a  course  |)ataUcl  to  the  K*  for^H 
the  last  two  or  three  miles.  ^^ 

Here  is  Seaford   House,  formerly  the  residence  of  Sir  Julm 
Leach,    who     rpjirrsenteil     the     iHirough     in     Parliament,     now  ^M 
standing   forlorn,    with    its    cleiiml ii^-covercd    porch    and    garden  ^| 
overrun  with  weed*  ;•    and    Corsica    Hall,  haunted    ever   sine? 

Lord 


*  Sir  John  JUach  vsi  a  &moai  leader  ia  Chsuccry  ia  Us  ^ ;  aftcmnls 
Vice-ChanpHlor,  intl  fiuslly  Master  of  tLc  Kolls. 

'  Nar  did  he  obsDge.  bnt  kept  in  ]ori7  place ' 

the  clianetcr  ns«j^m-<l  io  him  by  Sir  Gcur^o  Ita««  in  a  jeo-d'nprit,  tbc  point 
of  vbich  ban  suifvnril  a  little  in  the  hands  of  l^nl  Eldon'a  biographers,  Mr. 
TwittSDd  Lord  CampbelL  llui  true  tcxi,  wv  know  from  the  highesi  aathority, 
ran  tbuB:— 


I 


I 


Mr.  L«Bch 

Made  a  tpt-L-cli, 
AapTj.  neai,  tkbd  wrong; 

Mr.  lUri, 

Ou  ihn  other  part, 
Was  right,  anil  ilall,  aud  laiif>. 


Mr.  Parker 

Made  the  caw  darker. 
Which  «ns  dark  et'ODjjh  irlthont; 

Mr,  Cookv* 

Cited  a  tmuk. 
And  the  C)ti>nCL-llor  aald,  '  I  dwibt.' 


Mr.  Twi»  gooduaturedly  iugj;e«t»  tliat  'Parker'  waa  taken  merely  for  Om 
rb}  me ;  but  we  are  auurpil  that  this  was  not  (o,  and  that  the  vena  rcpref«oi  th« 
letual  Mxier  am]  vimiHurt  at  ihc  .-irguTnent.  IK  the  favntir  of  the  accompUsbed 
aathor  we  are  eiiabU-d  to  [ny  before  uur  readers  his  own  history-  of  thii  production. 
*lu  iny  I'Siiiest  year  at  the  Har,  Kilting  idle  aitd  listless  rather  than  liiteninK, 
on  the  Imck  ly-nehei  of  the  rourt,  Ve*ey,  junior,  tlie  reporter,  put  hit  notelxxJ; 
into  my  hand,  cayiug,  "  Row.  1  aiu  obliged  to  p>  a^aay.  If  auyuung  oectiis,  take 
a  note  for  ue."  When  be  rclomcd,  I  gave  him  back  his  iiotubcnk,  and  iu  it  the 
fair  Iteport,  in  effect,  of  what  had  taken  place  in  hit  ab<iene« ;  and  of  courve 
fboBgbt  no  more  about  tt.  My  fliort  Report  was  w  far  en  ro/'V,  that  it  caax  oul 
in  wfn^tf'-f.  though  certainly  tnje  sc'ntir.  it  wm  about  four  or  five  yrsr«  afterwai^ 
—when  1  MM  beginning  lo  get  into  hiislnesa — tliat  1  hoid  a  motion  tn  make  before 
the  Chancellor.  Taking  up  the  paper  ((he  ••  Morning  Chromicle  "}  at  brcakiast,  I 
there,  to  my  *urpr»c  and  alaraa,  saw  my  unfotlouate  Keport.  *"  Here's  a  pvcltif 
I'tikioeM I '  aaid  I ;  "pretty  chance  bavL>  I,  having  tbiu  nmile  aiyielf  known  lo 
the  Court  as  Mtirixiug  Ixnn  Ikneh  and  Rar."  Well,  an  Twto  indy  uarratM,  1 
made  nor  nwtion.  The  Chaseellor  lolO  mc  lo  "  take  notbing"  by  it,  aud  added, 
"and,  Mr.  Ro#e,  in  tbia  caie,  the  Chursccllor  dnes  notdDobl."  Bat  TVia*  hai  nnl 
told  the  wholr  story.  The  aneoilnle,  ai  he  fanf  left  t1,  conT«yi  the  aotion  of  ■ 
taoaling  ditpleased  retaliation,  and  remindi  one  of  the  Scotch  jndge,  who,  after 
jwOBOiuicing  t«&teacc  of  death  upon  a  former  eompaaton  wbnm  he  had  fannd  It 

difficult 


SiU4tX. 


78 


Lurd  N'npter's  son  sbot  his  tutor  doid  in  play.  And  here 
or  herrtilumts  wrrr  long  prrseivcil  tho  bones  of  ihf  firtt  Cliristiau 
lady  of  Sussex,  the  virgin  inart^T  and  saiot,  Lewinna ;  and 
here  wu  the  bcst-cnclowMl  lazar-housc  in  the  county.  Senfonl 
anems  to  possess  .ill  the  rajuisite*  for  a  first-rate  wateriuR-place — 
a  fiiit-  bliiff  hradlnnd  witliin  a  Indv's  unik,  and  ucarlv  equal  to 
Bea<:'Ii\  llt-nd  for  ^niridi'ur  ;  a  trieaii,  IkiUI,  shioglv  l>eacn,  and 
deep  water,  well  screeueil  from  tiie  north  and  aj«'n  tn  the*  sunny 
south  ;  witliin  two  miles  from  a  daiiysenice  packct-fitntiim  ami 
railuay-tcrminus^  and  itself  soon  likely  to  become  one.  \Vhat 
should  prercnt  it  from  hetn);  n  second  Brighton,  but  that  oozy 
salt-mnrsh,  which  yet  with  n  little  capital  and  enterprise  uiighl 
be  drained,  if  a  good  sea-wall  were  erected  ?  Kven  now 
London  doctors — not  lu  mention  the  Htm.  London  Aitillery 
Company — arc  doin;r  their  best  lo  regenerate  and  bring  it 
into  notice  again.  The  former  will  liave  it  there  is  notldng 
malarious  in  the  stagnant  manih  right  in  front  of  your  lodgings, 
and  are  buying  up  tlic  land  and  persuading  their  (vitients 
to  try  the  air ;  and  the  latter  arc  one  of  the  bcst-bchared 
mililnr^'  corps  that  ever  cormpte<l  a  town,  and  keep  the  little 
place— which,  we  must  own,  wants  some  enlivening— in  a  state 
of  continual  animation  during  their  month's  annual  holiday  under 
canvass.  SKam-fighls  .-md  sham-sieges  are  to  he  Itnil  in  abun- 
dance ;  and  though  one  may  be  suddenly  awakened  in  the  night 
witli  the  cry  of  '  the  enemy  at  your  gates ! '  there  is  not  much  hann 
in  this.  But  the  rwl  dnngr-r-sigunl  flies  so  often  on  the  shore, 
thut  all  thill  enjovmenl,  wliieli  S!i.  Waiier  will  tell  us  we  share 
with  old  Cicero,  of  going  about  '  picking  up  cockles  ami  winkles,' 
is  spoiled  ;  for  when  we  liavc  just  composed  oursolvc*  on  a 
pleasant  eminence  of  shingle,  in  very  vacancy  from  toil,  to  toss 
the  surf-woni  |>ebbles  into  the  sea,  or  to  niniinate  over  die  snc- 
ceaaei  or  disappointments  of  another  London  season,  we  are  not 
by  any  means  secure  from  tlie  invading  whiz,  far  too  near  to  be 
agreeable,  of  a  more  than  imaginary  bullet. 

From  Seaford  we  again  take  to  tlir  Downs,  and,  kccptni^  a 

difficult  to  brat  al  cleu,  is  alkged  lo  lisvc  oAHkA,  "  aiii  nov.  Donsld.  my  nsu, 
I've  cfarck-uifttitl  >(iii  ((.T  ancc  I 

'  If  Twit*  liutl  tjiplinl  to  me  [T  wiUi  be  fasd,  for  l^nt  Udon's  takt),  1  might 
ha*c  told  bitn  wbat  hori  Eldoo,  in  hU  lunnl  coiutdrrBtion  tar  young  bcginnera. 
fnnlwr  dW.  Thiuking  tliat  1  might  be  (a*  t  iu  troth  w»»j  raiber  diiooncrrtrd 
M  to  gaexpected  a  conirvtetuM,  nr  scdI  me  iluwn  a  itol?  i»  tliu  vHvct  th^t.  >o 
Av  ftva  being  nffinded,  ba  nsd  bM^n  iniieb  pleaHd  wi'.h  a  pla;rii1neti>  attri- 
botid  to  IDC,  Bcd  hoped,  cow  ibal  butiuccs  vas  approacbiog  nn«,  [  ihould  (till 
flod  l««irc  far  sume  relaxntiuii ;  and  be  was  aftervanU  invariably  court«oiu  ond 
kind  ;  nay,  not  only  promi«<l  ir.e  a  nilk  gown,  but  uclually— tiidite  I'osieri — 
tBvilcd  me  to  dituier.  1  hsxe  ncTtr  knoira  how  that  i«np  (irbicli,  like  a 
chaDMTy  tutt  which  it  reports,  promiaes  lo  be  tiuffinal)  toxioi  iti  way  into  print.' 

north- 


noTtli-wcsterly  direction,  soon  find  ourselvea  at  Bishopctoae — a 
rcry  model  village  for  picturcs(|ueuc3s,  with  a  sin^lar  old  church 
well  restored.  Hero  a  jwrk-liko  meadow,  with  aristocratic 
trees*  tells  of  »uine  noble  owner  and  mansion  now  no  more.  For 
here  KlfKNt  Rishnpstone  Hniisi*,  Cormrrly  the  occasional  residenCA 
of'lliomas  Fclham  I>uko  of  Newcastle.  A  mile  yonder,  in  the 
■till  more  sequesteral  Itamlet  of  Norton,  livrd  another,  thoogh 
humbler,  celrbritv.  James  Hunlis  dii;  vicar,  iht  friend  of  Hajlej, 
autlior  of  tliH  '  Village  Curate,'  and  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxfoit],  cutofTat  tbtrly-ci^it.  And  lo  we  miue  along  the  bank* 
of  Ottte  on  to  the  brow  of  Bedding'ham  Down — an  cxhilarattag 
vallc  over  the  cwe-bittcn  turf,  bo  short,  and  fine,  and  sprinicy— ' 
and  then  along  the  summit  of  the  Downs,  due  ea^tHard,  till  we 
are  over  Firlc  Park,  where  we  must  ret^line  awhile  on  one  of  the 
■cats  which  Lord  Gafr^  has  placed  on  the  Beacon-top.  And 
soon  we  aro  above  Berwick  Mill ;  and  then  a  number  of 
st^lternd  villages  crowd  IkIow  us — -Berwick,  and  Selmestoo, 
and  Alriftton,  and  Ripe;  and,  nfler  carrying  away  with 
us  a  specimen  or  tM-o  of  calcareous  s|iar  from  yon  gapimg 
chalk-pit,  we  halt  at  the  old  Saxon  rillagp  of  Alfristoiu  The 
siee  of  the  singular  cnirifnrm  church,  its  ancient  houses,  its  cross, 
and  the  lone  circular  hill  at  the  wfastcrn  i-xtriTniity  of  the  |iaruib, 
knoWD  as  Five  LunU'  Iturgh,  tngclher  with  its  sittialiou  on  whatJ 
was  dp'idently  once  an  estuary,  lead  to  the  belief  thai  it  was* 
formerly  a  place  of  imjiortauce ;  ami  we  know  it  was  within 
the  liberties  of  Battle  Abbev.  Here,  though  we  may  not  com- 
pare it  with  Mr.  Hugfacs's  fecrltidiire  Vale,  we  must  |nirsuc  the 
valley  seaward  for  a  mile  to  note  the  Su8«<.>x  White  Horse- — a 
piece  of  rustic  sculpture  carved  on  the  declivity  of  a  steep  hill 
above  the  Cuckmere. 

Crossing  the  river  at  Excet— once  a  distinct  parish,  but  now 
only  Kivinp  its  name  tn  the  Im'dge — we  pass  tlie  peaceful  villagei 
of  West  Di-an  and  Littlingtjm,  the  former  almost  hidden  from 
sight,  with  a  real  fourteenth-century  ]virsonagc  still  unaltered; 
and  Lullington,  where  wc  hare  the  smallest  church  in  the  kin^um 
(but  only  the  cliancd  of  the  original  building),  standing  alone 
in  a  cornfield.  At  Wilmington,  a  jnile  furtlicr,  we  have  nnother 
attempt  at  rustic  art  in  a  giant  carvctl  on  the  turf,  witli  both 
arms  erect,  and  in  each  a  huge  staff,  the  work  probably  of  the 
idle  hours  of  some  Benedictine  monks  in  tljc  old  priory  below. 
Tliis  village  will  remind  us  of  our  English  Virgil : 

'  To  thoe,  the  patron  of  her  iirat  essay, 
Tbo  Maaa,  0  Wilmington  I  renewB  her  song.' 

The  Downs  here  become  extremely  bold  and  pictuivs(|ue  in  tlior 

shapes, 


d 


SUMMBX. 


T5 


ami  the  briny  tonic  of  the  sva-bnx'zcs  more  jMriceptible. 
We  cross  Folkington  dill  above  the  village  of  tltat  uamc,  aiid 
&kirtu)ff  the  very  lonely  village  of  JcTington,  leaving  Fristoii  and 
East  Dfan  a  Uttic  to  our  right,  fimi  ourselves  arrived  ofl"  Wil- 
luigdon  Point,  at  the  easTeriim(»t  an^le  of  the  Dunns,  to  fpjoy 
the  unnvallci)  sea  and  land  view  which  opens  out  below  as — 
fniin  the  hills  around  Winchelsea  in  the  nxlreme  east,  to  the  Isle 
of  Wiffht  on  the  south-west,  with  the  entire  Weald  mapped  out, 
backed  by  the  distant  Kentish  hills.  Eastbourne,  that  t'avourito 
watering--plare,  appears  UOow  us,  with  its  fine  old  parisli  church, 
and  modern  dislrirt  cliapels  at  tlu:  sea-side,,  anil  Katton,  and 
Comptua  IMacf,  the  residi-acc  of  the  Tcnerable  molhiT  of  the 
Dake  of  Devonshire,  and  the  g^ouilds  of  the  late  Mr.  Davies 
Gilbt^  tlir  President  of  the  Royal  Society,  with  tJiose  massive 
martdlo-towers  on  their  Imy  of  shingle ;  and  the  dark,  ivied 
walls  of  Peveusey  in  the  further  back^ound,  h'iug,  like  some 
old  senduel  of  the  past,  on  that  great  allavial  plain  deserted  by 
the  sea  which  otice  washr<l  the  Roman  walls. 

Eastbourne  owes  much  to  Btachy  Heiid.*  It  shall  be  the  annual 
regatta  there,  and  a  fine  day,  without  too  much  'wind  on,'  if  that 
11  possible  there,  and  what  there  is  from  the  west ;  so  that  the 
old  guardian  headland  shall  keep  the  water  down  enoug-h  for  the 
galleys  to  pull  in ;  and  a  heavy  summer  stonn,  just  when  it 
threatened  to  mar  the  pleasures  of  the  day,  shall  have  split,  as  so 
roonT  do,  and  gone  out  In  sea,  attTarte<l  by  that  kind  old  light- 
ning rnnductor.  All  ts  liriglit.  ;ind  ^y,  and  calm.  And  you 
will  not  siHin  matt:h  tltat  pretty  holiday  seaside  scene.  It  is  a 
motley  gathering  of  ear-ringed  tars  ;  and  tawny  tunickctl  hrrrimg- 
lishcrs,  and  ploughbojs  from  the  Weald,  of  all  England's  children 
the  most  unnurtured  ;  and  the  gentler  shepherd  clan  ;  and  the 
opm-bmwed  coastguard  ;  and  plenty  of  l>e-jcwelle<l  visitors,  you 
mav  be  sure,  stron;;  in  seaside  slang  and  garb ;  and  a  surly  smuggler 
or  two,  dehant  of  customs-officers,  remnants,  it  may  be,  of  the 
notorious  Hawkhurst  goug  which  was  demolibhetl  a  century  ago, 
and  whose  riiigleadei-s  were  gibbeted,  to  scare  the  coimtry  round, 
on  SeUey  BUI  aud  the  Rooks  Trundall. 

We  and  our  children  may  laugh  at  smuggling  as  a  good  juke. 
But  it  Mras  no  joke  at  all  not  many  years  back.  It  was  a  very 
serious  thing  for  Sussex,  and  sorely  demoraltzetl  its  peasantry. 
Closely  allied  to  it  was  otrling — thai  Is,  tlic  transporlaliun  of 
wool  or  sheep,  'to  the  detriment  of  the  staple  manufacture  of  the 
caaaSxy.*   An  Act  of  Elizabeth  had  punished  the  first  offence  with 


*  BeaiuA^ /r«aJ,  a  laaloU>gy,  like  WeetminrifT  AM>*y. 


forfeiture 


TorfciturB  of  goods  and  a  year^*  imprisonmenl;  at  the  oooclusion 
of  which,  however,  a  sorer  pcnnltv  remained,  the  cutting  off  of 
die  left  hand  'in  some  open  market-town  in  the  fulness  of  the 
market,  on   the   market-dav/  and   nailing    it  to   a  conspicuous 
place  !  •    The  second  ofTence  was  felony.    Ky  anntlier  Act,t  owners 
of  wool  within  ten  miles  of  tJie  sea  were  to  jjive  an  account  of  their 
number  of  fleeces  within  three  davs  of  sbearinp-,  and  where  they 
were  ItHlgod.     Smufjgling  and  owling  tlien  were  the  bcsetttn^  sins 
of  Susscjt.      The  former  peculiarly  lempteil  it  as  a.  maritime,  the 
latter  as  a  nastornl,  atunty.     The  imimrt  sinugp'linf;  was  the  most 
serious.     'I  ea  was  its  principal  object.     In  1737  the  frays  be- 
tween tlie  *  gangs '  and  Uie  cnstom-huuse  officers  first  drew  blood  : 
soon    livej  were   lost.      At  Goudhurst  they  reacheil   their  worst, 
when-   in  a  pitched  bnlth?  all  tbf  arts  uf  a  miniature  war  wc; 
resorted  ti>.     The  crowning  piece  of  audacitv  was  in  17'i7,  whi 
emboldened  by  success,  the  gang;  broke  into  Poole  Custom-I  loi 
and  rescued  a  quantity  of  tea  which  the  revenue  officers 
secured.     From  open  battle  to  secret  murder  tlie  tninsitioo  w. 
easy,  and  a  murder  of  no  common  atrocity  was  committed, 
special  assize  was  held  in  consequence  at  Chichester.    Seven 
the  j;ang  were  condemned  to  death,  and  six  hangc-d  :  the  oOier  unt 
escaped  by  dying  on  the  niglit  of  his  sentence.     The  illicit 
in  tea  and  silk  gnulually  disappeared;   but  that   in  tobacco 
spirits  continued,  though  witli  diminishe<l  Imrharitics,  till  wlthi: 
the  last  twenty  or  tliirty  years.     The  last  occasion  on  which  li 
was  sacrificed  was,  we  believe,  at  Winchelsea,  in  1838. 

Taking  our  leave  of  these  sad  thoughts,  we  will  thread  that  narrow 
path,  sn  inviting,  that  runs  between  cWtTand  cornfield,  and  follow  it 
till  it  is  lust  in  the  green  tracks ;  'ware of  tliuse  landslipn,  nnd  the 
fissures  whicli  will  soon  become  such,  and  lluit  dizzy  jxiint  do 
which  noble  hounds  have  been  known  to  go  in  couples,  soon 
tlian  lose  their  scent,  and  where  a  too  eager  botanist  not  long  si: 
missed  liis  footing  and  was  dashed  to  pieces;  and  we  stand 
lleachy  Head,  still  the  dread,  though  nut  as  once  tlic  grave, 
mariners;  fur  a  goodly  light-house  now  buriu  it*  nightly  oil 
t<>  the  salvation  of  thousands,  and  a  station  of  the  mercantile  tele- 
graph cummunicates  ship-news  to  Lloyd's; — and,  though  dreadful, 
still  the  Ixrst  of  our  hilts,  whose  purest  ami  keenest  breezes  bare 
revived  so  many  languid  frames,  and  strengthened  so  many  a 
tottering  brain,  and  sent  back  many  a  dyspeptic  valetudiniuian 
invigorated  for  the  duties  of  another  year.  Off  IJearhy  lleail.on 
the  SOtli  of  June,  IGdO,  took  place  that  sea-fight  between  the 


•  8  Hii.,  c.  S, 


t  7aiuI«Wia.III.,«.as 


Sttster. 


77 


I 


I 


Frcnt-li  umlpr  G^uiit  dc  Tuurvillc,  and  the  allied  fleet  of  England 
aiitl  Hullanil  utuler  Lord  Torrington,  wliirli  Englishmen  scarce 
care  to  remember. 

The  chiel  features  of  historical  interest  in  the  eastern  division 
of  (he  county  arc  iimiucstioiiablv  its  Cinque  Ports,  or  more  cor- 
rectK,  ils  Cinque  Port  of  Hastings  ;  for  its  '  nneifnl  towns  '  of  Rje 
tuul  VVinchelsca  are  but  *  tiMIiura  memhni*  and  not  very  ]>orts 
indeed.  The  less  noble  mvmhra  of  Hastings  are  Pevciisey  and 
Seofbrd,  which  are  corjwrate,  and  five  villages  unknown  to  fame, 
BuUTrhithe,  Petit  Shaw,  Hidncy,  Bcnkcsboumo,  and  Grange, 
which  are  uniiicorporatf.  Their  present  state  belies  their  original, 
ret  let  us  nut  think  of  it  meanly.  L«ng  ere  the  Auhi  Rcyi* 
nod  any  fixed  hiihitat,  or  Mnpna  Charta  was  won  at  Runnymctie, 
or  our  '  two  Houses '  were  heard  of,  these  barons  of  the  Cinque 
Ports  were  great  men.  Who  were  they?  Plain  simple  inha- 
bitants of  the  privileged  town  and  port.  Vet  thesi?  hardy  seaside 
nuu'iiiLTs  inaiiiifd  tlie  wumh^n  walls  of  England,  And  kings  knew 
it ;  and  so  the  contract  ran  belHt-en  them — '  If  you  will  Jo  us 
ser>'ice,  and  be  always  ready  to  equip  us  ships,  you  shall  be  among 
tfur  favoured  ones,'  So  Hastings  found  three,  and  Scafurd  one, 
and  WiwhelsL-a  five,  and  Rye  four,  and  Peveusey  one,  and  the 
compact  was  scidcd. 

Thiise  were  grainl  days  lor  the  old  Dai'ons.  Fortliwith  great 
eivic  iieals  were  cast;  silk  pennons,  insignia  of  their  might, 
fluttered  from  tower  and  galley  to  the  breeze.  French  wines 
filled  their  vast  subterraneous  stoivhouses.  Fremh  rrfugeps,  in 
times  of  persecution,  flocked  in  safely  to  their  keej>s ;  crowned 
heads  mwle  progress  and  held  revel  here,  and  Winchclsea  was  a 
•little  London.'  One  unenviable  diatinctlou  too  thevhad — aChan- 
ccTV  at  their  own  doors,  and  a  private  Chancellor!  At  the  royal 
right  hand  was  the  barons'  srat  at  every  coronation  hanqurt — to 
be  the  iM'arcrs  of  the  silken  romnation  canopy  was  their  proudest 
privilege.  Another  was  tlu-  right  to  send  bailiffs  yearly  to  Great 
Yarmouth  to  auiJerintcnd  the  annual  forty  days*  herring  fair  there. 
This  superintendence,  ns  the  town  increased,  was  resisted  and 
resented,  and  great  quarrels  ensued  ;  the  one  party  endeavouring 
to  preserve  tbeir  ancient  jurisdiction,  the  other  to  wrest  it  from 
them  :  and  to  this  tlay  Great  Varmoutti  pa}-s  a  yearly  tribute 
of  herrings  to  Windsor  Castle  (or  composition  monev  for  it)  as 
M  mulct  for  a  brawl,  in  which  one  of  its  baiUfTs  killed  one  of 
the  ixirt's  bailiffs. 

Then  came  reverses — storm  and  tempest  first  made  the  breach. 
Rye  harbour  was  choki-d  up,  Hastings  harbour  was  swept  away, 
Wincbelsea  was  almost  swallowed  up  alive  in  the  thirteenth 
century ;  and  when  it  was  rebuilt  in  a  safer  situation,  the 
capricious 


78 


SsttKh 


capricious  sea.  fortook  it  Then  Freach  and  Spanish  spoilcxs 
csme,  and  (hen  political  and  moniripnl  ferments,  Treasi 
inttmtdatiun,  am!  romipt  rlft-tions,  anil  a  gfuxlly  arra^' 
mandamusei  and  quo  irarraiitos :  and  petty  freeincn  racltc 
learned  brains  in  sulcmn  trials  mth  disquisitions  upon 
ttym.  Thus  we  find  a  golrmn  cause  in  the  *  State  Trialt '  l> 
fore  Lord  Hardwicke,  on  oiw^  Henry  Mofjre's  claim  to  be  *  fr 
of  Hasting'  wherein  he  at  length  established  tliat  right  fo 
every  'eldest  son  of  a  freeman  born  after  his  father's  freedoi 
within  the  borough,  without  respect  to  residence.'  TTie  Refor 
Bill  dealt  hardly  with  their  electoral  rights.  Schedule  A  ex- 
tingaishcd  Seaford  and  Winchelsea,  and  Rye  only  found  bet 
terms  in  Scheilule  B.  Now  the  Queen*s  writs  nm  here 
elsewhere,  and  no  Chancery  is  held,  and  the  Court  tif  Shej 
way,  and  the  Brotherhood  and  Ouestlinf;  Court  at  Komnei 
are  forgotten  thinjis,  save  when  a  new  Lord  Warden,  of 
dnnp  energy,  resuwit-itrs  them  for  a  momrnt,  nn<l  by 
force  of  '1  kiudiv  inia|;inatinn  rf-mlls  tlie  dejiarted  gbiries  of 
Cinnue  Putts ;  and  although  bailiffs  anil  Jurats  are  still  livii 
entities,  those  representatives  of  England's  old  marine  arii 
cracy  till  peasant  farms  on  aguish  marshes,  or  wrap 
candles  in  the  print  of  s*)me  ancient  custumal,  mourning  ovt 
llieir  ancestral  greiitness,  wilh  an  occasional  petition  to  Parlii 
ment,  or  a  bowl  of  desjiair  to  that  gn-at  receptacle  of  all  uegU-ctc 
mediifvalism,  the  Sussex  Archo^logical  S<^iciety.  And  vet  tliei 
they  stand — those  two  '  ancient  towns,'  Rye  and  Winchelsea — wit 
the  ruins  of  Camber  Castle  midway  between  them,  all  the  more 
interesting  in  their  decay ;  the  one  with  its  quaint  gables,  d< 
roofs,  and  paveil  highways,  unlike  anv  other  English  town  v( 
ever  saw ;  the  otlier  witli  its  ivied  walls  and  venerable  gatewaj 
and  5tre<:-ts  so  green  with  grass,  tliat  a  century  ago  the  hcrl 
*  was  let  some  years  for  41.' 

It  was  at  Rye  and  Winchelsea  that  oar  fleet  came  to  anchor 
1350,  nhen  Edward  III.  fitught  in  pcTson  against  the  Snnniai 
and  'having  noite  to  fight  with  any  m«n',*  unlered   his  trumiH*! 
to  sound  a  retreat     It  was  a  little  after  nightfall,  Froissart  tells 
wlicu  the  King,  Prince  of  Wales,  anil  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  (Jol 
of  Gaunt),  who  was  tln-n  too  vitung  In  bear  arms,  'but  the  Kii 
had  him  on  board  because  he  In%-ed  him,*  tlir  Earl  uf  Kirhmondi 
other  barons,  disembarked,  took  hoi-ses  in  the  town,  mul  mde  to  tl 
mansion  where  the  Queen  was,  scarcely  two  English  leagut^  die- 
tanl,  and  which  appears  to  have  been  the  monastery  at  Etching 
ham—'  who  was  mightily  rejoiced  on  seeing  her  lord  and  cUildrtu 
for  she  bad   suirerr<l  that  day  great  aflliction  from  her  doubts 
success  i  for  they  had  seen  from  the  hills  of  the  coast  the  whol 


Sussex.  79 

of  the  battle^  as  the  weather  was  fine  and  clear,  and  had  told  the 
Queen,  who  was  very  anxious  to  learn  the  number  of  the  enemy, 
that  the  Spaniards  had  40  large  ships :  she  was  therefore  much 
comforted  by  their  safe  return,'  * 

Although  Mr.  Uussey  prefers  the  tradition  that  Caesar  effected 
both  his  debarkations,  in  the  two  successive  years  of  his  invasions, 
in  Kent,  as  the  most  likely  to  be  the  breviasimus  in  Britanniam 
trajectus  mentioned  by  him.  Professor  Airy  concludes  them  to 
have  taken  place  at  Pevensey.f  If  we  adopt  the  Astronomer 
RoyaKs  theory,  it  will  increase  our  interest,  as  we  stand  beneath 
the  hening-boned  masonry  of  that  gigantic  ruin,  to  reflect  that 
the  two  great  conquerors  of  England  here  first  leaped  on  English 
shore.  Be  this  as  it  may,  there  are  few  places  in  England  where 
the  antiquary  may  spend  a  pleasanter  day  than  Pevensey,  The 
castle  of  the  *  Eagle  Honour,  as  it  was  called,  from  its  long  pos- 
session by  the  great  Norman  family  of  De  Aquila,  rises,  a  great 
mediseral  fortr^s,  in  the  midst  of  the  walls  of  a  Romano-British 
city :  for  Anderida,  the  great  city  of  the  Andred's  Wood,  that 
covered  much  of  ancient  Sussex,  was  (there  can  no  longer  be 
nuidi  doubt)  situated  here.  Courses  of  Roman  tile  remain  in 
these  ancient  walls ;  upon  which  the  Conqueror  must  have  looked 
before  he  gathered  his  forces  together  and  advanced  along  the 
coast  to  Hastings. 

And  there  stands  Herstmonceux,  or  the  Wood  of  the  Monceux 
(a  Norman  family),  with  its  more  peaceful  associations,  which 
never  since  the  Conquest  changed  owners  by  purchase  till  1708, 
fKie  of  the  earliest  brick  buildings  (after  the  Roman  period)  in 
the  county,  and  described  by  Horace  Walpole  as  having  remained 
to  his  time  in  its  'native  brickhood,  without  the  luxury  of 
whitewash.*  We  sicken  at  the  mournful  end  of  Thomas  Lord 
Oacie,  its  owner  in  1524,  executed  at  twenty-four  for  a  heedless 
night  fray  in  Hedlingley  Woods.  In  our  own  days  the  parish 
(^  Herstmonceux  has  become  associated  with  the  fame  of  the 
learned  and  excellent  Archdeacon  Hare,  who  passed  there  the 
latter  years  of  his  life.{ 

But  we  must  not  leave  the  seaboard  for  the  Weald  without  a 
few  words  on  its  great  aimual  ingathering — the  herring  season. 
By  October  10th  all  the  boats  have  been  manned,  and  reports 
of  inshore  *  takes'  by  the  summer  boats  hare  quickened  the 
labours  of  the  hardy  crews  to  be  ready  for  sea.  The  man  that 
has  so  gently  tended  the  ladies*  bathing-machines  all  the  sum- 

*  '  Cfarooicles'  (ed.  Johnes),  vol.  i..  p.  269. 

t  See  'Tke  InTamon  of  Great  Britain  by  Jaliits  Cssar.'    By  "nioinas  Lewin, 
Esq.    and  cd.     1862. 
t  '  Quartcriy  Beriew/  vol.  xevii. 

mer 


mcr  moDtba,  and  the  car-ring«!  y«cTitPr,  whom  tUe  most  indolent       i 
of  Lomlun  %'isitors  liail  t)ii)U^)it  still  more  tndnlr^t  tlian  himsplf,  ^| 
have  l>ci'n  conv(?rt«l  suddenlr,  aiid  as  bj  magic,  into  the  most  ^^ 
courageous  and  venturesome  of  those  who  *  go  down  to  the  wa  in 
ships  and  occupy  their  business  in  ^ent  watftrs,'  fit  to  command 
a  crew  and  craft  over  anr  si'as.      Nor  is  t\w  business  unprofit- 
able.    The  take  last  yetiT  was  an  uitusuailv  g<x>d  one  ;  the  &hare 
of  sfjme    Inrnts,   divistbhr  auioi)";  seven    or    eight    boat-owners,       i 
amountini^  to  no  less  than  TOO/,  or    600/.      At  Christmas  they^f 
come  into  harbour  for  a  short  holiday ;  with  the  new  year  they^^ 
sail   westward  for  the  Limnl  for  the  no  less  perilous  pilchard 
fishery,  which  lasts  them  till  tlie  spring  is  far  advanced,  when  they 
a*rnin  return  to  refit  and  repair,  and  become  landsmen  for  a  while. 

We  must  pass  more  rapidly  through  the  nortli-east  of  the  county, 
which,  though  pre-eminent  in  sylvan  beauty  and  pastomi  scenery, 
yet  possesses,  perhaps  for  that  reason,  fewer  features  of  historic  inte-j 
rest.  It  is  singularly  undiversified  by  towns.  East  (jrinstead, 
its  only  representative,  must  have  been  a  great  place  in  its  day.] 
Hence  probably  it  was  that,  till  1832,  it  sent  two  memlx-rs  to  Par- 
liament, and  that  the  county  Lent  assizes  continued  to  be  held  therffl 
till  1799,  alternately  with  Horsham;  notwithstanding  that  the 
rickety  idd  court-house  had  tumbled  atmut  the  ears  of  Judge  and 
jury  in  1684.  Another,  and  perhaps  a  Vtter,  reason,  however, 
for  the  privilege  was  that,  from  tlie  Ividness  of  the  ruads  sod 
the  wild  character  of  the  people,  it  was  not  safe  for  the  judges  to 
venture  far  bevond  the  borders. 

Time  wijultl  fail  us  lu  sjK-nk,  as  we  ought,  to  tliose  who  love  the       ■ 
piduifstjue,- — of  the  Down  and  Beacon  of  lirightling,  the  gnuid^H 
twin-sister  eminence  with  Crowborough  of  the  forest  district;  or^^ 
of  that  once  Royal  Forest  of  Ashdown,  which  kings  laboured  to 
preserve,  but  the  lawless  days  of  the  Ucbellion  depopulated  ;  to 
those  who  revel   in  ecclesiastical  lore,  of  the  church  of  Htcliing< 
ham,  with   its  sandstone  mellowed   into  grey,  so  simple  in  con- 
struction, so  bold  and  beautiful  in  its  outlines  ;  to  tltose  for  whom 
baronial   grandeur  has  charms,  of  the  ancestral  honours  of  the 
house  of  Nevill,  and  their  great  place  of  Eridge,  with  its  not 
trees  and   its  seventy  miles  of  rides  and  drives;    to  those  wl 
delight  in  storied   pile  and  mined  hall,  of  the  Mditary  tijwer  i 
Buckliurst  (the  only  remains  of  the  mansion  for  centuries  of  the 
Sat  kvilles  till  they  got  the  lordlier  Knowlc) ;  of  the  '  Bmnbertie* 
of  Domesday,  and  Brambletyr  of  Horatv  Smith,  the  home  of  the 
Coinptons,  in  the  talc  of  littion  as  in  fait  dismantled  br  Parlia- 
ment troopers,  and  in  two  centuries  a  ruin  ;  of  Bayham,  to  whose 
setting  glories  the  bouse  of  Pratt  has   in  tlie»e  latter  days  lenl 
lustre,  with  its  emerald  lawns  and  grey  ivied  arches  reflected  in 

the 


toe 
able      I 

whdU 


Sussex. 


«1 


PPci 


bosom  of  its  oven  sweet  labc  ;  of  Bodiom,  atl  round  and  m&r- 
iial,  and  still  dc5aat,  as  of  yon*  in  tlie  palmv  days  of  the  Dalyn- 
gniges ;  ur  of  that  Hospital,  in  whicb  the  will  of  tin?  good  tarl 
of  Dorset,  unfetton-tl  by  Mortmain  laws,  still  feeds  and  hurbour<t 
many  a  pensioner. 

But  clijcf  of  all  in  interest,  the  palace  of  Ma}'(ield,  the  home 
in  enrliest  times  of  the  primates,  three  of  whom  lie  buried  here, 
and.  In  Inter  days,  of  the  munificent  Oreaham,  the  favourite  of 
Court  and  City,  die  restorer  of  our  finances,  the  architect  of  our 
Exchange.  This,  too,  and  not  Cilastonbury,  is  the  scene  where 
strove  with  the  Evtl-one  the  most  earthly  of  Saints — the  restless, 
reckless,  and  inflexible  Dimstan. 

Tlierc  is  nut  much  mvth  about  tlie  Rattle  of  Hastings  (for  so 
we  must  be  oontent  to  call  it,  in  spite  »tf  recent  altrmpta  t*>  revive 
the  name  of  the  battle  of  Sc^nlac).  On  that  undulating  upland, 
lUKi  in  that  steep  morass,  raged  on  Saturday,  October  14:th, 
A.D.  lOtiO,  from  nuie  till  tlnve,  when  its  tide  first  turned,  as 
fierce  a  battle,  as  real  a  stand  up  fight  between  the  army  of 
and  and  the  great  Norman  host,  ns  any  which  has  ever 
_  ided  the  destinies  of  countries.  llicrc  is  do  important 
battle,  the  details  of  which  have  been  so  carefully  hamlcd 
down  to  us.  How  the  Conqueror's  left  foot  slipper!  on 
landing — the  ill  omen — and  how  his  right  foot-  *  stackinl  in 
the  sand'— the  good  omen  of  'seisin;' — ^how  the  shi|)s  were 
pierced,  so  tliat  his  host  might  fight  its  way  to  glory  without 
rplreat ;  and  how  he  merrily  extracted  an  omen  for  good  even 
while  putting  on  his  hauberk  tlie  wrong  side  foremost;  hi>w 
brother  CJurth  with  the  tender  conscience  counselled  bnitlier 
Harohl  witli  the  seared  conscience  to  stay  away  frcmi  the  fray, 
Inst  his  bruken  mth  to  William  should  overtake  him;  and  how, 
u  they  reconnoitred  the  vast  Norman  host,  the  elder  brother'* 
heart  had  failed  him,  had  not  the  younger  one  culled  hint 
scoundrel  for  his  meditated  flight ;  the  pmyerful  eve  In  the  one 
camp  and  the  ^irnusiiig  eve  in  the  ollu-r,  '  wiUi  w*assails  and 
drinkhails  ;*  the  expluils  of  valiant  knight  Taillifer  between 
the  lines;  how  the  Normans  shot  high  in  air  to  blin<l  the 
enemy;  and  the  dreadful  m^i^  in  the  *  blind  ditch  Malfo^ise 
shadowed  with  rcisl  and  sedg«T ;'  imd  the  Conqueror's  hearty 
after-bottle  meal,  when  he  was  chaired  among  the  dying  and  the 
deail  ;  ami  tliat  exquisitely  pathetic:  touch  of  story  which  tells  how 
Edith,  the  swan-necked, — for  the  love  she  bore  to  Harold, — 
when  all  otliers  failed  to  ri-cognisc  him,  was  brought  to  discover  his 
mutilated  corse  among  the  stain ;  and  the  Conqueror's  vow,  s<i 
literally  redeemed,  tn  fix  the  high  altar  of  tlie  '  Ahbey  of  the 
Battaile'  where  the  Siaon  (fonfanon  fell — all  these,  and  a  thou- 

Vol.  112.— ;Vi>.  223.  a  sand 


82 


Lives  of  the  ArcUnJtops  of  CarUerhury. 


und  othcT  minute  circumstances  of  the  memorable  day,  ittand  out 
in  u  clear  relief  at  this  distaiic-e  of  time  as  the  last  charge  of 
Waterloo,  or  tlic  closing  scchp  at  Trafalgnr. 

Sussex  has  Utile  occasion  to  feel   humbled  \yy  having  been 
scene-  of  this  well -contested  field.     Whatever  the  ijiluibitantB 
the  British  isles  hare  since   been  able  to  eHect  for  their  own 
greatccM  and  for  the  happiiKss  of  the  human  race,  is  attributable 
in  no  small  degree  to  ^thc   issue  of  that  fight.     Thenrefonh  the 
Saxon  was  guided  and  elevated  by  the  high  spirit  and  far-Teachii 
enterprise  of  the  Xorman,  and  the  elements  of  the  national 
racter  were  complete. 


Abt.  111. — Licet  of  t/te  Archtiiakops  of  Canterhuru.     By  Walt 
Farquhar  Htxtk,  D.D.,  Dean  of  Chichestvr.     Vols.  I.  and 
London,  18U1-2. 

IN  re\-iewing  a  book  by  the  Dean  of  Cliichostcr,  wc  do 
feci  nurselvcs  bound  by  tlmt  delicacy  which  usually  forbi 
any  reference  to   the    personal    history   of   living    authors.      Fi 
Dr.  Hook  has  long  been  known  to  the  public,  not  on\y  by  hU 
literar)'  productions,  but  far  more  by  the  great  and  important 
practical  work  which  he  has  i^erformed,  and  by  the  conspicuous 
part  which  he  has  tal^cn  in  the  morcments  and  in  the  contro- 
versies of  our  age.      We  are  not  left  to  speculate  whether  the 
writer  of  the  volumes  which  Iwnr  his  name  on  the  title  page  be  W^M 
young  man,  or  one  somewhat  advanced  in  years  ;  whether  a  mai^H 
whose  life  has  always  been  that  of  a  secludetl  student,  or  oofr 
whose  time  has  been  largely  occupied  by  the  active  duties  of  hit 
calling;  ur  to  what  particular  section  of  theological  opinion  the 
new  hingmjihrr  of  the  Kiiglish  primates  is  to  lie  referretl.      If  w« 
know  anything  of  the  history  of  our  church   for  the  last  quar 
of  a  century,  wc  already  know  all  tlie&c;  things  as  tu   Dr.  Hook; 
and  there  is  no  reason  why  wc  should  aSect  to  be  ignorant 
them,   any  more  than   if  we  were  dealing   with    some  nmint 
statesman  or  warrior.     Indtvtl  tlie  Dean  himsell'  refers  to  his  owD^ 
history  in  such  a  manner  as  tu  set  us  at  our  ease  in  this  respect. 
After   mentioning    *  the   artistic   skill    with    which    Hnme   hat 
clustered  the  farts  around  a  central  per&onage,  and  portrayed  the      i 
principles  of  the  age  in  counexiun  with  the  character  of  th^H 
•ovcrcign,'  he  tells  us  that, —  ^B 

*  At  an  oorly  period  of  lifo  the  idea  mggostcd  itself  to  tfao  author  of 
the  present  work  that  a  iimilar  interest  might  attach  to  the  hlt- 
tory  of  the  English  Church,  if,  jihtcing  the  primate  in  the  centre,  «« 
woro  to  counoct  mth  his  biography  uo  eochxiAStical  ovouts  of  Mb 

age 


d 


timtifi 


of  Canterbury. 


and  thus  oasociite  fJKts  which  «ro  ovorlooked  in  their  inni^nlti- 
eont  isuktion,  anil  oustonifi  which,  ahstractedly  oonndorocU  nm  v^nod 
only  \>j  the  aitli([uury.  A  vocotioD  to  pastoral  dot/  in  tho  mauti&o- 
turiiig  dih'tricte  <luauuid(^  and  exhiuiMtcd  his  energies  for  fivo-ftnd- 
thirtj  ytmni ;  but  hu  auught  his  lucniutiun  in  tlio  ntbid^  of  occleHia8- 
dcnl  history,  uid  he  resunciB,  ia  hie  old  age,  a  task  which  bo  ouwiUinglj 
rolinq^uialiud.* — (i.  2.) 

Thii  bonk,  therefore,  is  in  its  nri^n  a  pnraDel  to  the  Li>'es  of 
Jodfpea,  by  Lord  Camjibpll  aiid  Mr.  Fuss — rach  tho  work  of  a  man 
whii,  iu  witbdrawliifr  from  the  loiig'-ftiinilljir  bustif  <if  pr<)f(>ssionaJ 
Iftbour,  Mjught  and  found  in  litcratui-e  that  i)CcU)tati()n  whirh  was 
oeceasary  for  a  vig;oroiis  and  acdve  mind.  In  (ike  roiinner. 
Dr.  Httuk,  un  being'  tnuisferred  fnun  the  chief  pastoral  superin- 
tcmlcncc  of  a  vast  tnanufarturiii^  town  to  preside  over  the 
cathedral  of  a  ([luet  little  uld-fasluoned  city,  lias  employetl  his 
well-earned  and  welcome  leisure  on  the  execution  uf  a  plan 
wluch  he  had  formed  in  the  years  of  bis  youth ;  and  the  result 
is  sncb  as  might  have  been  antiripnted.  The  Imok  bears 
throughout  the  stamp  of  the  author's  personality,  We  should  not 
have  looked  in  Dr,  Hook's  pages  for  evidence  of  that  entire 
devotion  to  the  subject  in  hand,  of  that  depth  and  originnlitv  of 
research,  of  that  minute  and  thoron<;h  knowledfre,  which  might 
liave  been  fairly  expected  from  a  writer  of  a  diflerent  class ;  noi 
am  we  pretend  to  have  found  these  merits  in  any  very  hiph 
d^^rac,  although  it  is  certain  that  the  nutlior  has  donr  bis  work 
diligently  unci  consrirntinusly.  In  many  plares  it  is  rvidt-nt  that 
his  information  rpg-anlln^  varicnis  iiiatterx  treated  »n  tin*  vulumrs 
before  a«  has  been  lately  acquired  ;  and  not  unfrequently  thin^ 
ant  brtmpht  forward  as  if  they  wen?  new,  which  will  be  less 
to  to  the  ]»rcscnit  generation  »>f  students  ^vm  tliey  were  ti>  the 
stwlmts*  of  Dean  Hook's  rarlier  days.  But  on  tbi;  other  hatKl, 
if  his  knowleilge  of  ilt-tajls  be  recent,  it  is  evident  thai  the  main 
story  has  lou^  been  familiar  to  liis  mind,  that  his  view  of  it 
has  \(mg,  been  settled,  and  that  he  thus  has  something  to  start  with 
which  givcshimacumraand  over  the  details  as  they  ore  discovered, 
with  a  power  of  appreciating  and  arranging  them ;  and  if  things 
am  now  generally  studie<L  by  the  younger  clergy  which  were  nut 
studied  forty  years  ago,  there  were  among  the  ordinnry  clerical 
studies  o(  that  day  subjects  and  books  which  are  now  neglected, 
but  which  \el  are  of  great  value  and  importance.  Nor  has  Dean 
Hook  Awgotten  what  he  learnt  in  his  early  years,  but  the  knowlotlge 
then  acquired  is  often  I^roughl  with  good  effect  to  hear  on  his  iww 
subject.  Throughout  wl-  see  a  man  who  has  known  much  of  men 
and  of  life;  the  pure  Anglican  divine,  who  at  every  stqi' has  Ijeen 
uxusiomed  to  make  good  his  cause  against  Romiuiisui  on  i\w 

G  2  unK 


one  hand  and  against  Puritajiism  on  the  other.  Above  all, 
is  the  great  advantage  of  strong  natural  good  sense,  conirolliiig 
am)  guiding  his  judgment  and  his  pen  —  a  speciallr  English 
qaality,  which  in  Dean  Hook  has  been  improved  and  ripened  by 
long  and  large  experience.  If,  indeed,  there  be  any  charac- 
teristic u'hich  is  jiarticularly  noticeable  in  him,  it  is  his  ulter 
unlikoness  to  those  with  whom  he  was  at  one  time  popularlv 
classed,  but  on  vcr^'  superficial  grounds — the  party  which  had 
for  its  organ  tlie  'Tracts  for  the  Times;' — it  is  his  distrust  of 
idealisms,  his  leaning  to  the  real,  the  possible,  and  tlie  practicable, 
his  remembrance  that  men  are  neither  angels  nor  inacbines,  his 
inclination  to  abate  from  the  ri£;our  of  theories  and  to  secure 
such  good  as  is  attainable.  He  is  content  to  take  a  plain  riew 
of  things,  to  forego  nil  the  glory  tliat  nii^lit  be  gaineil  by  mystery^ 
and  subtlety,  and  paradux,  by  unintelligible  opinions  and  stormy 
or  hazy  language.  Hut,  .strongly  manifest  as  is  his  practical 
turn  of  mind,  be  is  whuUv  free  h-om  that  vulgarity  which  refuses 
to  make  allowance  for  merit  of  other  kinds  than  his  own.  If,  lor 
example,  he  considers  that  Ansetm  failed  as  a  primate  of 
Kngland,  he  is  desirous  tn  du  him  justice  as  a  theologinn,  a 
phihisopher,  and  a  siint,  and  regrets  that,  from  the  sphere  which 
Ansclm  in  these  characters  adorned,  he  altowe<l  himself  to  be 
called  away  to  duties  for  which  he  was  leas  Btted. 

In  plan  the  book  resembles  some  others  which  have  appeared 
since  the  idea  of  it  was  first  entertained  by  Dr.  Hook — such  as 
Lord  Campbell's  *  Livesof  die  ChauceUors,  and  MissStrickland's 
*  Live*  of  the  Queens  of  England,' — a  work  which  we  see  that 
the  authoress  has  lately  turned  into  a  complete  series  of  English 
historv,  by  the  ingenious  expedient  of  publishing  as  a  supplement 
the  *  Lives  of  Rnchelor  Kings.'  It  <liflers  from  a  c<ilIectionof  live* 
of  men  eminent  in  any  particular  line — such  as  statesmen,  divines, 
admirals,  generals,  or  lawyers — in  this  respect,  that  it  groups  the 
story  of  ever)'  age  around  one  official  personage— one  chosen,  not 
for  his  personal  superiority  to  others,  but  because  he  Iwlongs  to 
a  succession  of  those  who  have  (illed  (whether  well,  or  ill, 
or  moderntely)  some  particular  place.  Tiie  first  nf  Uiese  methiKls 
would  bo  purely  bit igrapl ileal ;  tlie  other  h;is  more  affinity  witli 
history:  and  acconlingly.  Dean  Hook  tells  us  that  'the  work 
now  presented  to  die  reader  is  designed  to  be  a  Histoiy  of  the 
Church  of  England  '  (i.  2).  We  neeil  not  say,  however,  tliat  the 
historv  wuutd  nut  have  taken  this  form  if  Uteauthitr  had  intended 
it  to  be  a  btlilly  <ligntfied  com(>osilion.  On  the  coutraiy,  he 
bolfls  himself  at  liberty  to  tell  his  story  in  a  free  and  unfettered 
style — to  enliven  it  with  such  illustrations,  anecdotes,  and  digres- 
sion* as  occur  to  bini.      He  neither  alTccts  the  pomp  of  Gibbon 

nor 


I 


n 


A 


XiMi  of  the  Archbishops  of  Canterl/un/. 


85 


nor  tlip  brilliancy  of  Macaulay.      Sometimes  it  may  be  thougbtj 
that   he   condcscctiils  rathm-  morp  titan   need   he  to  very  youn{ 
readers;  sometimes  we  may  Iw  remimled  of  his  hig^h  fame  as  a 
preacher  by  a  tone  which  savours  somewhat  too  strongly  of  tlie 
pulpit;  sometimes,  we  may  think  that  he  is  a  little  too  familiarj 
and   gossipping.     But  if  we  notice  these  trjflinjf  matters,  it  ii] 
only  in  order  to  say  tlmt  they  do   not  at  ail  really  detract  froni| 
the  pleasant,  readable,  and  instru<rtive  cliaracter  of  the  volumes. 

Dr.  Hook's  tone  is,  as  we  have  already  said  (and  as,  indeed, 
it  hantly  necessary  to  say)  entirely  that  of  an  Anglican  church- 
man.   Yet  this  does  not  exclude  liberality  of  opinion  ;  for  there  ig 
throughout  tlmt   true  liberality  which  consists,  not  in  treating^j 
everything  with  equal  coldness,  or  in  suppressing  the  writer's] 
own  convictions,  but  in  allowing  for  the  difierent  position  andj 
principles  of  other  men.     However  much  he  may  dislike  the 
papal  usurpations,  he  docs  not  think  it  necessary  to  treat  every 
pope,  or  every  adherent  of  the  papacy,  as  a  noxious  creature,  to 
he  hooted  .it  and  hunted  down.     He  ivrites  as  liecomes  a  memlwr 
of  a  church  which  of  .ill  ('hristian  communions  mav  Ijc  styled 
the  most  truly  historical,  inasmuch  as  its  reformation  was  not 
basetl  on  any  new  ideal  of  Christianity,  but  on  a  return,  in  so  for] 
as    llie    cliange    of    circumstances    allowed,    to    the    ascertained 
ddctrrnrs  of  primitive  times ;  a  church  which  neither  disdains 
history  like  some  religtous  iHidies,  nor  falsifies  it  like  (he  Church 
of  Rome. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  partly  to  Dr.  Hook's  practical  tuni  of 
mini),  perhaps  partly  to  habits  formed  in  nmtrovt-rsy,  that  we 
oug:ht  to  asrrilie  that  foiulness  for  drawing  parallels  between 
ancient  things  and  things  of  our  own  day  which  will  strike  every 
reader  of  these  volumes.  Sometimes  this  appears  simply  in  the 
sliapc  of  illustration:  as  when  we  arc  told  that  King  Offa's, 
donation,  on  which  the  exaction  uf  Peter-]H-ncc  was  grounded, 
was  rwit  orij^iiially  a  national  tribute  to  the  Papal  see,  but  that 
the  kii^  intended  to  'become  an  annual  subscriber  towards  the 
fund  raised  to  pay  the  ex{}ens(!3  of  Divine  service  at  Rome,  and 
for  the  support  of  indigent  pilgrims  who  might  visit  the  cit)** 
(i.  2.'i3)  ;  or  where  the  mingle<l  splendour  and  discomfort  of  an 
Anglo-Saxon  court  are  illustrated  by  a  rompnriwm  with  an  (iffu^crV 
hut  at  Aldershot,  where  'sjuttering  candlts  '  thn>w  their  lifiht  on 
*B  splendid  uniform/ and 'a  table  with  splendid  sjiecimens  of 
bijoiatrie  and  expciuive  works  of  art '  (i.  3l'J) ;  or  the  roiniwirisoii 
of  mediaeval  palmers  to  modem  writers  of  leailing  articles  (ii. ' 
42)  ;  or  the  curious  passage  in  which  the  eRt-rt  produced  by  Peter ' 
the  Hermit  on  his  age  is  illustrated  bv  the  cracking  of  the  great 
Westminster  bell  (ii.  41).     Sometimes  the  parallel   is  used  in 

order 


86  Lives  of  the  Archbitliaps  of  Canterbury. 

order  to  pay  a  compliment,  as  wlierp,  liy  Archbisltop  Baldwin's 
en»editi<m  to  nrvach  the  Crusade  in  VV'ales,  accompnnifd  by  the 
justiciar  KiuiulT  de  Glonvillc,  '  wc  arr  rcmindnl  of  tlic  manoer 
in  wbich  the  cnnse  of  the  African  Mission  was  supported  on  a 
late  occasion  by  the  coHSperatiun  of  one  of  our  most  pifted  jho* 
lates,  in  conjunction  with  the  most  eloquent  of  uur  lawyers  and 
statesmen'  (iL  500).  In  one  place,  mmplimciit  of  tliia  kinl 
Is  combinril  with  n  pmplifcy  whirli  the  diversities  of  lasU-  in 
h^'mnulugy  will  hanlly  alli>w  to  Ik*  fulfilled.  After  luiviog 
told  us  that  Osmund,  Bishop  of  Salisbiu*}',  compiled  the  Samm 
Offices,  which  '  became  the  model  ritual  of  tJie  Church  of 
Euglaiul,'  nnd  that  tht^  Fishop  of  Sullsbmy  became  precentor  of 
the  dpIsciiiKd  Collegt',  Dean  Hook  goes  on  to  say  :  — 

*  Tbu  title  is  still  retained  bj  tho  indofaUgablo,  loomod,  and  pions 
pvelate  nho  occnpicH  the  soo  of  Salisbury  at  tho  present  time ;  who 
Lm  indeed  pruTwl  himaelf  to  be  tho  worthy  Kuccew^jr  of  Biithtqt 
Oanmnd,  by  helping  to  pn^paro,  and  by  giving  his  Bouction  to,  a  hymu^ 
book  for  his  dioccso,  which  is  likely  aoou  to  beconw  the  uao  (^  tbo 
whole  province.' — (ii.  165.) 

But  more  commonly  the  parallels  between  past  and  pment 
times  arc  made  to  convey  a  caution  against  tliinking  ourselves 
wiser  or  lK?ttcr  than  our  forefathers.  Tlius,  in  speaking  of 
the  |K>pu1ar  religious  i>arty  throughout  the  Mirldio  Ages,  Dean 
Hook  usuidly  stylis  it  'the  religious  world,*  by  way  of  a 
hint  to  the  frcnuentcrs  of  Exeter  Hall  that,  if  they  bad  lived 
in  those  days,  their  zeaal  would  probably  have  been  shown  Dot 
in  protesting  against  the  Church  of  Home,  but  in  cnthusiasti- 
eally  emliracing  and  forwarding  its  superstitions.  So  we  are 
t<ild  tliat  the  generation  which  at  first  scoutc<l  George  Stephen- 
son's projcnrts  is  not  cntltleil  to  despise  tho  contemporaries  of 
Roger  Bacon  for  thinking  him  a  magician  (i.  7).  If  the  «>venth 
century  quarrcUcd  about  the  Roman  and  the  Scottish  tonsures, 
we  are  admonished  by  n  reference  to  the  late  scenes  in  St  GeorgeV 
in-tlie-Kast,  that  even  the  ninrtei^nlb  century  has  something  to 
learn  as  to  the  right  way  of  estimating  the  externals  of  religion 
(i.  13).  If  Dunstan  was  (as  Southey  supposed)  a  ventrilo(|uiat, 
and  used  his  ventrilocjulsm  for  the  interest  of  his  religious  party, 
he  was  no  worse  than  *  manv  a  modem  man  of  genius,  who  with 
the  pen  of  a  ready  writer,  and  with  strong  jiarty  feelings,  c«im- 
muiiicates  to  the  public,  under  a  iKn^udonyme,  garbled  stHleuieuls, 
of  which  he  would  lie  unwilling  to  acknowle<Ige  himself  the 
author'  (i.  3h8).  If  tricks  were  played  with  relics  in  the  middle 
ages,  do  not  scrretaries  and  auditors  of  modem  instituti<ms  *caok 
the  accounts  *  ?  If  there  were  sham  miracles  In  those  da\*s,  are  oar 
modem  missionary  societies  very  parttcolar  as  to  the  truth  of 

stories 


I 


I 
I 

I 


A 


Z-i'ccT  t^the  Arthbifhcps  of  CarUerifury. 


87 


itnrirs  which  *Bpi>eftl  to  the  sentiment  of  piety  and  the  enthuaiasm 
of  lienpvolnncc'  ?  (ii.  2$2),*  If  bribery  and  corruption  were  prac- 
liaetl  in  the  Pnpal  Court,  have  wc  ncrcr  heard  that  '  tlurioK  the 
mania  of  railroad  !{i>eculatioii,  the  votes  of  momWrs  of  cithtT 
House  of  Parliament  might  l>e  inflaenced  by  u  juiUt-ious  di^lri' 
bucioD  of  shares?'  (li.  333).  If  the  Hritish  Christians  n-e^e 
disinclined  to  attempt  the  conv'er:»ion  of  the  Saxon  invaders,  ore 
nol  'juimc  of  our  conteinporarirs  less  to  be  justified,  who  refuse 
to  support  a  mission  to  Central  Africa  simplv  on  the  ^'ound 
that  it  is  not  supported  hy  some  I'arourite  missionary  societ)>  ? ' 
(L  12).  Even  the  shai-c  which  raedixvnt  hisliope  took  in  war 
most  not  be  too  rashly  condemned  as  scandalous;  for  *a  bishop 
in  those  days  did  not  consider  a  command  in  the  field  of  Ijottle 
more  inctimjintihlp  with  Ins  sarred  uHicc  than  we  should  regard 
a  seat  in  Parliameut  at  the  presi^nt  time'  (i.  307).  Iiidcml, 
the  fic;httng  of  ecclesiastics  in  the  middle  ages  majF  pU-ad 
somclhiuf;  like  the  anthorit}'  of  Dr.  I'arr ;  for  '  within  our 
own  memor}>',  tlie  pftleuiic  in  thp  field  of  polities  fought  with  his 
pen  to  recouimeiid  himself  to  a  imrty,  oiul  tu  establish  a  claim 
ujKiu  its  putrouai^e.t  li»  the  eleventh  century  the  same  fc-elings 
animate*!  the  military  polemic,  with  the  imly  dilli^rence  that  hard 
blows  were  supposed  to  be  more  efficacious  in  enforcing  an 
arjBfumenl  than  l^rd  words'  (ii.  ilZ).  Nay,  even  persons  now 
alire,  and  of  liigher  spiritual  pretensions  than  Dr.  Parr,  are  nut 
Rithout  tlieir  likeness  lo  those  combative  old  bishops: — 

'Ijet  OS  not  bo  Uh>  Hovon:  upon  tho  prelates  thns  ongngud  in  war- 
fikr«.  'What  they  did  was  douo  witli  tho  fnll  consent  of  the  reli^oos 
Toxld,  «8  it  than  existed,  and  amidst  tlje  applause  uf  many  who  ao- 
ooontod  thcmselvcfi  truly  pious.  It  it)  the  ammna  rather  than  the 
action  winch  is  to  bo  regarded.  In  the  nineteenth  century  we  do  nut 
indood  Sbo  prulatcH  vnouliug  the  Inttlo-nxo  anil  lieunug  in  pieces  tho 
csofporcn]  members  of  pagans  or  of  heretics ;  ncverthok«a  dixttnictioii  ia 
nmnully  hurled  at  inooiDorable  ChristiaD  B(.>nls  by  tho  Bieliop  of 
Bome ;  and  nrhon  we  poBs  from  the  TiciniQr  of  the  Colisenm  to  that 
e£fiea  in  the  f^tnuid  of  Itondon,  whom  in  the  ihiyft  nf  nor  childhood  wo 
flK9od  wild  bcastn  ^-itb  terror,  wo  sbill  hear  tho  roar  not  of  beasts  hot 
ci  men— fiorco  as  the  Bphflriim*  of  old  ;^gAthered  &om  all  qnarten, 
from  church,  lalwmarlo,  and  chapid,  frota  ihu  turdly  jioLlcu  and  frfftu 
ttie  eobblci's  stall,  from  north  to  south,  from  east  to  west;  fiwm 
Durham  to  QL>ucoHter,  and  from  Noi-wich  to  Winchester ;  and  we  find 
that  llm  oumt  as  it  is  uttered  lu  Loutlnu  diilers  from  Ihu  eurso  us  it  is 
ftiliBinnted  in  Bouio  ouly  in  form  and  nut  in  spirit.  .... 

*fio  lontf  as  Papist  cursed  Protestant  aud  Protestant  curaos  Papist 

*  Ws  liav«  rco«nllv  called  atl«nrtoa  to  the  msrT«lloai  storks  related  by  l[i« 
BcT.  Mr.  Kennedy,    }<ee  'Quanedj'  Iteview.'  vol.  cxi.  p.  174. 
t  A  mwe  refers  lo  FstKs  preflice  to  BdleiMlaiua. 

WC 


8S  ZtM«  of  tlie  Archhiahajia  of  Canierbtuy, 

UTut  not  judge  sevdrely  of  those  whoeo  fanatictsm  in  tho  twelfth 

eootury  curriotl  Cham  from  the  ntrauilH  of  Dritam  or  from  the  hills  of 
Hume  to  tight  vilmi  they  huliuveil  to  be  the  Lord's  hattle  ou  tho  phiius 
of  Palestino/— (ii.  669-570.)  | 

Here  and  thrrc,  indeed,  the  application  of  these  paralleb  is  a 
little  equivocal.  We  are,  for  instnm-e,  Ipft  In  some  doubt  whether, 
in  one  of  the  sentences  alrradv  qiiutiHl,  mir  author  wouhl  iibsnlutelv 
justiiy  the  fighting  bishops  (which  thcflr  own  L\;ntemporarics  did 
not,  except  in  tlic  ra«:  of  crusades),  or  whether  he  would  turn  our 
modem  bishops  out  of  the  House  <»f  Lonls.  So,  when  he  tells  ns 
that  'Hihiebrand's  idea  was  that  whlcli  has  lx*en  pri>|>uunded  in 
our  own  da^s  by  one  of  the  most  consistent  and  philantlmipic  of 
our  statesiiieii — the  avoidance  of  war  and  the  maintenance  of  order 
by  the  establishment  of  a  unirersol  referee.  Thus  do  extremes 
meet'  (ii.30) — we  are  not  quite  sure  whether  the  intention  is  to 
applaud  or  to  condemn  the  old  liientrch  and  the  Maneliestrr  states- 
man together.  And  the  like  may  be  said  of  a  passage  where  ihe 
appropriation  of  ecclesiastical  income  to  reward  political  service 
in  the  middle  ages  is  paralleled  with  the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sion, in  which,  '  instead  of  going  to  the  support  of  prebendaries 
and  canons,  or  of  the  parochial  clergy,  a  certain  jwrtioii  of  the 
Church  property  is  employed  to  remunerate  the  Commissioners. 
The  chief  Commissioner  receives  the  income  of  two  prebends 
and  a  living  ;  the  second,  of  two  prebends ;'  while '  their  secretary 
has  the  income  of  five  livings, — his  work  being  considered  equal 
to  that  of  five  clergymen  '  (ii.  364).* 

A  good  deal  of  this  sort  of  writing,  indeed,  npjiears  to  be  not 
more  than  half  serious :  rather  an  indulgence  of  the  author's 
humour  than  intended  cither  to  teach  us  or  to  provoke  as.  For 
OUT  own  part,  we  arc  quite  willing  to  let  the  Dean  hare  his  good* 
naturefl  ning  at  us  and  at  our  neighbours ;  and  whereas  it  might 
be  thought  Uiat  these  jmssagrs  can  hare  no  interest  but  for  the 
present  generatiim,  we  rather  believe  tliat  to  any  one  who  may 
look  into  the  book  a  century  or  two  hence,  they  will  appear  the 
most  curious  passages  in  it.  They  will  give  him  some  lights 
which  he  might  not  easily  find  elsewhere,  but  some  of  them  will 
probably  puzzle  him  not  a  little. 

The  Lives  of  the  Archbishups  arc  to  be  dividend  into  five 
books,  each  of  which,  it  is  to  \yc  presumed,  will  fill  a  volume, 
as  is  the  case  with  those  alreiidy  published.  The  books  arc 
respectively  to  contain — '  1.  The  Anglo-Saxon  period;  II.  The 
Anglo-Norman  pcriiKl ;  111,  TTie  Reactionary  jjeriod  ;  IV.  The 
Keformatinn  ;    V.  The  Modem  History  '  (ii.  ^0).      Of  ihcsti,  the 

*  We  ur«  obliged  to  uk,  what  ii  ihe  rsltie  of  a  prebend,  snd  vhstDfa  ImngP 

first 


n 


1 


A 


Lives  of  the  Archbishops  of  Canterburi/. 


89 


first  and  second,  extending  to  the  death  of  Archbishop  Stephen 
tangton,  are  now  before  us. 

To  begiu  with  the  Anfflo-Sason  period  is  a  necessitv  which 
mast  somewhat  hinder  the  attractiveness  of  the  first  jwrtiun. 
VV*e  ,all  know  that  Milttin  is  cnntinuall}'  rebuked  in  dicso  days 
for  havinj;  likmofl  AnghnSaion  history  to  'the  wars  of  kiles  or 
crovrtf  flocking  and  fijfhting  in  the  air;'  yet  wo  ima^jine  that, 
nftCT  all,  ihe  feeling  of  readers  in  gencTal  is  rather  with  Milton 
than  with  those  who  take  it  on  thcinselvc*  to  correct  him.  To 
say  (hat  the  history  of  I'lngland  during*  those  ages  ouyht  to  be 
interesting — that  if  it  is  not  found  so  the  fault  is  in  the  rrailer — 
id  to  introduce  considerations  which  are  really  beside  the  ques- 
tion. Kor  is  it  of  any  use  to  tell  us  that,  if  we  would  but  go  . 
deep  enough  into  tlie  study  of  the  subject,  we  shouUl  find  it 
interesting;  for  oniitholuglsts  might  prolmbly  say  the  same  of 
those  airy  feuds  from  whiclt  Milton  draws  liis  coiitemptuoua 
timile.  The  question  of  interett  is  reallv  to  be  decided,  not  by 
pcrtOQS  who  have  made  Anglo-Saxon  history  the  subject  of 
conscientious  antiquarian  study,  or  by  those  (for  wc  suspect  that 
there  are  such)  who  have  got  up  n  smattering  of  it  for  tlie  sake 
of  displaVi  but  by  ordinary  readers,  who  judge  by  a  comparison 
of  that  period  with  later  times  of  English  history,  or  with  the 
history  of  other  countries.  A  few  points  there  are  which  are 
rcmembere<l  by  every  reader  of  our  commonest  school -lx>o]cs ; 
but  the  great  mass  of  the  story,  extending  as  it  does  over  more 
tlian  six  hiinilred  years,  is  utterly  forgotten.  In  the  long  line  of 
the  archbishops,  how  few  have  any  place  in  the  memory  even  of 
prrsons  whose  acquaintance  with  such  matters  is  above  the 
average!  Augustine  is,  no  doubt,  remembered,  and  something  of 
his  story — ^tlie  scene  between  Po|)e  Gregory  and  the  English  Imys 
in  the  slave-market,  the  couvcrsinii  of  Ethelliert,  antl  the  quarrel 
l»etwren  tltL-  Italian  missioiiaritn  and  the  bishops  of  the  older 
Dritish  church."  Theodore  may  possibly  be  known  as  the  monk 
of  Tarsus  under  whom  the  whole  English  Church  was  consoli- 
finted,  and  the  knowIe<]gi>  of  his  native  Gnrek  is  said  iti  have 
bccume  as  eomniun  in  tliis  country  as  that  of  Latin.     Dunstan  is, 

*  Wr  veoture  to  <^uet(ioQ  the  correclu««s  of  a  note  r«)atiiie  to  Augutttn«.  whom 

Grrgi<i7  llt«  Great,  tn  writing  to  U)«  oiisatousms  Utuud  for  Uritaiu,  luul  itylcd 

'* prv^ftMittui    «i.-*ler.'     'In  ilic^  first  (Hlitinii,'  &■)»  DiAig  Hook,  'I  lUwd  Ujv  word 

t>fw*>tt,  trai  tbcrv  sppcor*  to  t>c  somctlung  of  an  anarhronism  id  thU.     Proant  bod 

Xutl  as  Jet  a  ttKlmicat  raeauiag,  aud  it  has  now  oo  other '  (,i.  5t>.     In  the  MCOod 

lOH,  iliervfofL-,  lite  word&  are  trwidated  'yoor  leader.'    J'!t/t»tt  (pnepoi'Uus}, 

ever,  K-id,  in  ilngorj't  time,  'a  techuical  roeauiiig,*  iitasmiich  as  it  «iu  the 

IB  girrai  ill  tha  Bvovdictinv  rule  (c.  63)  lo  the  Kcuod  yvivoa  (or  prin--]  in  a 

tsiiirkLUtcrjr ;  uiid  Augusdae  seems  tv  liaTu  held  tliix  ofllcv  tu  tbe  inoiia»tei'V  on 

Ihc  l'J<Rlian  lltll,  from  which  the  English  mUsioii  wu  M-ni  furtJi.     S««  the  Bene- 

tiut  life  of  Gregory,  iu  Micoe,  *  Patrotogia  Lallna,'  licrv.  3GG. 


imleei),  as  familiar  ■  name  as  Bccket,  or  Cranmer,  ar  Laud  ; 
OJo  may  pt'rliaps  be-  rcmpmlMTpiI,  altbougli  mare  faintly,  on 
account  of  liIs  coimexion  witli  Duustau.  Aelfric  is  K>metimes 
mcntionod,  not  for  an^-thing  that  he  is  known  to  bare  done,  but] 
becauw  he  may  perhaps  have  been  the  same  Aelfric  from  whosp 
homilies  some  pemiges  have  been  citractcti  aa  evidence  of  the 
An];Ii>-kSiix(in  belief  on  tin?  Kut-liaristic  doctrine*  'I'Un  n;ime  of 
AIpl»xi?  is  prp»?rvi!«l  by  wuhl*  rhurcbes  which  are  dcdicatcrd  U> 
it,  and  by  the  cinrunisUaces  of  his  murder  by  the  Danes.  And 
Stigand  i$  remembered  as  the  last  of  Anglo-Sax.oDs  who  was  de- 
poscdiu  order  that  the  Italiaji  hood  of  a  Norman  abbey  might  take 
his  place.  But  these  are  a1>out  nil  that  can  lie  said  to  retain  any 
hold  whatever  on  the  miads  of  ordinary  rentiers;  and  we  ques- 
tion whedier  even  Dean  Hook  himself  could  now  pass  a  Tcsy 
brilliant  examination  in  the  Uvcs  of  the  Brihtwalds  and  the 
Nothclms,  the  Plc^munds  and  the  Eadsijfcs,  whose  history  he 
has  investigated^  written,  ajid  in  all  probability  forgotten.  The 
Doan  has,  however,  known  bow  to  enliven  the  duller  portioa 
of  his  stnry  by  the  intrtKlnrtion  of  amusing  matter  here  and 
tbeine.  Thus  in  the  Life  of  Tatwine  (a.d.  731-735)  we  find 
a  cwriniis  account  of  the  manner  of  education  and  of  the  state  of 
knowh-ilge  in  that  nrchbishop's  timc!  (i.  l%-20ti),  and  other 
such  digressions  occur  thmughoat. 

On  a  point  as  to  which  the  reader  of  Church  history  finds 
himself  obliged  to  form  some  opinion, — the  continual  recurrence 
of  miracles, — I>oanHook  has  some  very  sensible  remarks  (i.  35-7), 
of  wliich  we  slmll  cjuote  a  part:— 

*  It  is  only  in  modem  tinios  tliat  wo  have  loanied  to  diKtingiiifth  bo- 
tween  credulity  and  fiuth,  and  to  andorstaad  that,  as  the  object  to  be 
nach«d  in  all  oor  investigatioiu  is  truth,  twe  onqoirei  may  foil  inio 

*  SeQ  t.  434-S.  Dean  Hook  t«Us  us  tibewbera  Uiut  Joba  Scoiiu  Erigcua  '  tmtt 
•with  fV«iedom  awl  Icamirg  upuu  tbe  ductriue  of  prvdestuisUou,  but  tbc  vcsk 
wliich  made  ihu  gresu-st  impreuiian  npon  thv  public  mind  w  hU  nrradsa  "[)■ 

^^^  Eucharikita,"'  in  (xppoficion  lo ihr oplnioiu  of  PKSchnsimllaillwTt;  aril,  ««nmfalg 

^^K  the  idcDtitjT  of  Scotiu  wiUi  that  Jobn  vho  wan  one  of  the  sreal  jlllVcd's  lilenu; 

^^H  HUKluatx,  he  is  'iudiaed  ui  lliiiik  ifaai  to  fain  intliiGiice  mc  ortbodoxj  of  lu 

^^^1  Bsf^uh  divines  on  ihii  Mibjwct  tmy  he.  In  some  mrtuiiirv,  tneeS'  (i.  SS3-:\).    To 

^^H  IB  It  Kems  el«ar  that  Alfrthl't  Jcbin  was  a  dillercnt  person  from  ScotU:  and  it  it 

^^^r  aow  gtaenUj  Rappasod  that  Scotns  did  net  vrito  &  special  tratiBe  ou  the  Eucharist^ 

^V  but  that  bis  views  on  it  were  set  forth  in  bi<i  Comm^^ntary  anSt.  Jobn  (of  which  tlie 

H  kxtftnt  portioB  stop*  short  vl  lh<i  cri(ica)  port  wf  tbc  sUth  chapter.),  and,  pvrbus, 

■  tl»ii  ill  «  >hoi-|  leiUf  to  Charles  tbir  Raid,  whicb  uo  longi-r  uxista.     And,  while  nit 

^^  views,  in  m  IVr  as  tbi-y  rjtn  hr  gsihervd  finm  his  rtmaining  writinf^,  wttt  certaialj 


1 


opposed  to  those  of  PaM-hnsiDs,  they  *e«m  also  to  bare  difcred  considenhlj 
tks  doetriuv  of  Aelfric  ^uul  from  ihnt  iit'  ih«  Kiiglisb  refbnnstiaB.     (See  PliMi, 
Mlgoe's  *  Patrnlofna,*  cxxit.,  I'rai^f.,  p.  xxi. ;  Chmtlieb,  '  JoluuiB  Sratns  Erigeos*' 
Gotha,  ISiiO,  pp'  '*>.  '^•a.')    Bi-rennr  aiwl  hit  opponents,  lu  the  elerenib  ceotvy, 
wrangtjr  attribated  tbo  tnatuc  of  Katnunn,  *  l>e  Corpore  et  Ssnpilo*  Uonial,* 
Sootu ;  sod  heoee  tuu  uisca  tUDch  eoaftinoa  in  later  timea 


Lives  of  tim  Archbiskopt  of  Cattterl/urtf. 


9t 


•B  great  error  by  beliering  ti>o  much  as  another  li^  boltoring  too  liUlo. 
Bat  boforu  thiB  (trincipk-  waa  roeogoiaed,  and  when  tho  only  fear  men 
had  w«B  leet  thfjr  ahoold  not  holioTO  cnongli,  tliey  onnoui-mged  them* 
flelvos  in  credohty ;  aiul  irhciYiaii  my  fOioiUd  think  it  siiif^  to  givo 
ondil  to  tho  report  of  a  miraclo  witliout  carufiilly  cjcamiuiug  thu  evi- 
denoo,  our  conviction  being  that  credulity  wcakeoa  tho  oanae  of  Chria- 
tianity,  tho  anciontaworo,  on  tho  cantrary,  too  ranch  iiieliucd  to  regard 
an  invwtigation  of  eTidonco,  not  as  a  legitimate  cxurciso  of  tho  roaaon 
with  vhich  o\tx  Creator  hiw  L-ndowcd  as,  bat  as  an  indication  of  an 
mfidal  tamper  or  a  want  of  fiuth.' — (i.  38.) 

£)arlj  in  the  work  wo  have  iDtimatlons  of  a  theory  which 
aotneivhat  tin^Y^  the  whole — as  to  the  indepondenre  of  the  Enf^lixb 
Church  in  Anglo-Saxon  times.  On  this  account  Dean  Houk  is 
disposed  to  dwell  rather  stmnglv  on  the  shortcominf^  of  the 
Italian  missionaries^  whose  proceedings  after  their  first  establish- 
ment in  this  Ulaiid  he  rcgnrds  as  wanting  in  boldness  and  entei^ 
(i,  113-120);  and,  from  remarking'  on  these  drfcets,  he 
on  to  ahaw  how  the  mission  of  Birinus  to  Wesaex,  which 
■anctioDed  by  Rome  but  unconnectr<I  with  Canterhnrr, 
the  way  for  the  union  of  the  whole  English  Church.  This 

a  matter  to  which  it  is  well  thnt  attention  should  I»e  drawn, 
as  it  has  t(M)  rommonly  hcen  overlimked.    . 

We  cannot  hnt  think  tliat,  in  his  wish  to  disconnert  the 
Anglo-Saxuu  Church  from  Rome,  Dean  Hook  has  done'somo 
injustice  to  the  great  missionary  Boniface,  whom  lie  represents 
as  *miserahlT  deficient  in  judgment,  tliough  excelling  in  zeal  ' 
(i,  237).  Surety  thi-re  was  nulhing  incoosistent  (as  the  Dean 
appcrum  to  supjM^iii-)  iu  Roniface'a  falling  back  on  the  Kngliah 
Church  for  assistance  in  his  labonrs,  although  he  had  received 
hia  commission  from  the  Bishop  of  Rome.  For  he  saw  that 
Englishmen  were  the  men  lx*st  fitted  for  missionary  work 
among  the  kindred  people  of  Germany  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
lie  did  itot  see  that  antagonism  which  Dr.  Hook  imagines 
between  the  English  and  the  Roman  Churches  of  that  day.  To 
Sociiiace  Rome  was  venerable,  among  other  reasons,  because 
from  it  the  second  conversion  of  England  had  proceeded  ;  and, 
although  after  having  entered  on  his  missionary  career  he  never 
revisited  his  native  land,  his  communication  with  it  was  con- 
stant, his  interest  in  the  English  Church  was  unabated.  He 
found  that  his  connexion  with  Rome  gave  him  advantages  in 
dealing  ivith  the  princes  and  the  people  of  France  and  Ger- 
many which  were  not  tn  W  liad  by  nny  ntlier  means  ;  the  more 
he  saw  of  the  disorderly  Irish  missitmaties  who  rivalled  and 
thwarted  him  in  his  exertions,  the  more  did  he  naturally  feel 
liimself  inclined  to  draw  close  the  bands  by  which  he  imnself 

waal 


92 


Lives  qftlie  Archbishoja  of  Cajiterbitry. 


was  connected  with  Rome  ;  and,  if  we  may  take  the  success  of  bis 
mission  as  a  test,  his  policy  appears  to  he  amply  justified  as  the 
best  which  could  have  been  adoptM  in  the  circumstances  with 
which  he  had  to  deal. 

On  the  whole,  it  seems  to  us  that  the  relations  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Church  with  that  ol'  Rome  are  less  correctly  stateil  by  Dean 
Ilook  than  by  another  late  writer,  Pmfessor  Pearson,  of  Klnp^'s 
College,  LoniJon,  whose  volume  t>n  '  The  E.-irIy  and  Middle 
Ages  of  England '  ii  full  of  information  and  written  with  much 
ability,  although  somewhat  disfifrured  by  that  tone  of  ilnshiny 
doo^matisra  which  seems  to  bo  nov/  Tf^gnrded  as  necessary  for  a 
Professor  of  M<n]frn  History  :* — 

'  If,'  writes  Mr.  Pearson,  '  in  little  mottcrs  of  detail  Gregory's  plan 
w«8  not  Cfurieil  out,  there  can  yet  bo  httio  doubt  that  the  Aiigla- 
Sftxon  Church  looked  up  to  Home  ok  itti  original  anil  as  it«  vUinmto 
court  of  appeal.  In  troublesome  times  communication  might  bo  soe- 
pendud ;  the  whole  connection  vran  pcrhapit  rcgiitded  an  Bottled  by 
custom,  which  no  one  cared  to  disput^j,  ntther  tbo-n  an  a  mnticr  of  nbeliBCt 
right.  In  fact  it  would  bo  easier  to  proyo  tho  devotion  of  tho  Suums 
to  Romo  tliuD  thoir  dt^pundonco  upon  it,  tliougli  tliu  latter  no  donbi 
was  real.  There  is  ono  inKtanco  on  record  where  tho  primate  adhered 
to  the  fortunes  of  a  fallpu  pope,  and  did  not  attempt  to  conciliate  hiB 
more  fortuuata  rival.  But  the  pilgriroage  of  Anglo-Saxon  kings  and 
a  nomeloHS  nmnbor  of  the  ]ieople  to  Rome,  the  dues  Helf-imposed  to 
support  a  hospice  thcro,  the  fierce  zeal  of  Boniface  for  tho  papal 
clftinii!,  aro  all  proofs  of  a  filial  sentiment  to  the  august  mother  of 
their  fid (h.'t 

Wc  brlieve,  indeed,  that  in  this  period  Rome  cicrciscd  over 
the  Knglish  clergy  tlic  influence  of  advanced  religious  fashion. 
Iliat  many  hung  behind,  and  refused  to  follow  its  *  develop- 
ments* in  doctrine  and  in  practice,  is  to  be  explained  by  the 
foct  that  the  great  mass  of  the  clergy  is  generally  distrustful  of 

*  Nor  U  Mr,  Pearson  slvsj*  10  be  rc1i«d  on  for  (MnrcclncSG  of  ststemcni.  At 
p.  3fi»,  for  vxamiiie,  be  dispUys  a  power  of  crowding  bluinlen  into  s  uanw 
comji^iss,  which  tni^t  be  MiTial  by  Mr.  Thanibury  himstif.  Henry  II.,  it  is  uid, 
nficr  hit  rcconcUiatlon  with  ihe  Pop*',  '  wa»  now  uurtppiWiMl  TOWt.'r  ftf  the  RtisUsh 
Church,  and  he  g»vc  away  i(»  Whojiric*  to  Hcckel  s  nworn  ciicmii-v,  Kidrl.  John 
of  Oxford,  aud  liichard  uf  IlcheEtor.or  to  fi>n.-ignt.-rE|  finch  as  William  l^ngcbamps 
litut  Richard  de  TocIifTu.'  Mr.  Pcnmon  adds  in  a  note,  *  Longcliamps  wa3  a  natiTe 
of  Bcuuvaif,  and  dc  ToclilTe  archhisliop  of  Poitiers.  Similoil j,  ihe  priotacy  wai 
offctvd  to  the  Lombaid  VucarinK.'  On  ihh  it  may  be  nniurkcd  that  il.i  llicliard 
Tocliffe  (.who  so«ini  to  be  indebted  to  Profc«»r  Pcarvoa  for  the  prefia  Jet  was 
tb«  name  wiih  lUchard  of  IWb^ittr  ;  (S.t  he  wa«  not  a  foreigner,  but  a  oatine  of 
the  diocL-sr  of  Bath — probably  of  the  town  from  which  his  local  oaiue  waa  takea ; 
is.)  be  waa  aot  archbishop,  but  arrhdeacno,  of  Poiders;  (4)  nor  was  Poittnn 
ever  an  srcbtepiscopal  «cc ;  (S.j  Longcltamps  was  not  appomtetl  by  llvnry,  bnl  I7 
Richard  I. ;  (6.  j  the  oiimacy  was  not  offvred  to  V'acanus,  biit  to  Bogcr,  abbot  of 
Bee,  whom  Scldyu  nii'l  "ftuTs  have  (.•onfoundi'd  with  him. 


t  'The  Karly  aud  Uiddle  Ages  of  England,'  LotidoD,  1661,  p.  8G, 


novelties, 


Lives  (^the  Arehbisftops  of  CaiUerbuty. 


93 


DOvoltiFs,  ratber  than  b}r  supposing  that  they  aetetl  on  auy  settled 
and  consciouslv  entertained  principle  of  national  or  primitive 
Christianity.  Those  who  had  intercourse  with  the  C<pntinent 
were  regarded  as  the  party  of  process  and  of  suficrior  enlighten- 
ment ;  and  the  decay  of  the  English  Church  under  tlie  calamities 
iiiBicteil  hy  tlie  Danish  invasions  jjave  greater  and  greater  advan- 
tAges  to  tliis  party.  If  ICngland  was  less  Roman  than  Fiance, 
the  reason  seems  tu  have  been  simply  that  it  was  less  civilised 
and  more  remote. 

Bat  it  is  time  that  we  shonhl  pnss  on  to  Dean  Hook's  second 
volame,  which  in  the  inti^rest  of  its  snbjrct  far  exceeds  the  finX, 
Aldumgh  the  second  volume  is  considerably  tlie  larger,  the 
period  embraced  in  it  is  much  shorter  than  in  the  other — bring 
little  more  than  a  ccntur}'  and  a  half,  instead  of  nearly  five 
centuries.  Hence  there  is  room  for  greater  fulness  of  narrative^ 
wbile  the  facts  arc  better  known  and  more  interesting;  and 
among  the  archbishops  of  this  time,  beginning  with  l^ufiaiic, 
the  contemporary  of  Gregory  VII.,  and  ending  with  Stephen 
Langton,  the  coniemporaiy  of  Innocent  III.,  are  some  of  the 
most  famous  names  tliat  are  to  be  found  in  the  M-holc  of  the  long 
seiies  from  Augustine  tn  his  successor  in  our  own  day. 

The  introductory  chapter  of  this  volume  desen'es  to  be  men- 
tlocted,  as  gi\'ing~  a  clear  and  sensible  view  of  some  of  the  chief 

Stints  which  require  notice  in  the  circumstances  of  the  time. 
ne  great  cause  of  the  collisions  between  the  Crown  and  the 
Church  was  that,  in  Dean  H«)ok's  significant  phrase,  »lhi^  Norman 
kings  were  none  of  tliem  gentlemen,  niey  were  not  gentlemen, 
because  from  their  earliest  years  the  vindictive  and  other  iKLSsions 
were  encouraged  and  indulged  '  (p.  8).  And  the  part  which  the 
Cbnrch  playwi  in  opposition  to  these  princes — the  strength  which 
it  found  in  its  c*)nte8ts  witli  them — are  well  explained  in  tlie 
following  wnnis: — 

'  Power  was  required  to  restrain  tho  king,  and  this  power  was  sought 
1)7  the  Chnrch.  The  ScripttircB  of  the  Old  TestAmcnt  were  Htudicd 
with  a  Kest  cqnal  to  that  uf  the  Fnritauti  of  a  Knhticqituut  period,  and 
the  idea  of  a  tboocnicy  was  prevalent  and  popular.  The  people 
groaned  beneath  tlio  fcTnum^  of  the  barons ;  they  too  odcn  misHed  a 
protector  in  tlio  Rorcreign ;  thoy  fuuud  a  friend  in  tho  priest,  who 
very  frcqucDtly  rose  trnm  their  own  ranks  to  the  high  position  lio 
occnpied  in  society.  IViostu  and  bishops  wcro  foremost  among  the 
demagogues  of  the  day ;  and  in  the  contentioDs  which  we  shaU  bavo 
to  reconnt  hotweon  thn  primates  and  the  kings  of  Kngland  we  shall 
find  the  people  invariiihly  on  the  aide  of  the  ('hurch.  Evi-ry  fhuirh 
morumient  was  a  popular  movement.  The  Church  formed  the  rcvo- 
Intinnarj'  party ;  and  aiiinng  the  pfKtple,  degrndtd,  and  tu  a.  groat 
extent  cnHiav«d,  the  prevalent  foclmg  was  that  nny  rovolntion  wotdd 


he  bottcT  than  tho  usBtiiig  state  of  things.  The  kiog  become  more 
eiactiug,  froxn  the  nooessity  andur  which  ha  was  plucoil  uf  supporting 
meoroeuarioB  to  defend  himself  agfunat  tho  fusanlts  uf  Ikltuius  <  'hnrch, 
aud  puuplu.  Thu  (.'huKli  dcJioil  lu8  murcciumes,  becaoM  the  uuithcmii 
of  tho  ccclctoiuitic,  vhcti  dirvctud  iiguiiuU,  tbu  ntliug  pOWOIB,  was  hutu  io 
moot  with  ■  doop  roeponsc  in  the  heart  of  the  pwiplc,  who,  even  to 
boroiiB  and  moooreh^  coaed  in  annoor,  becomo  fomudaUo  from  thsir 
umnbors.' — (pp.  .5-6.) 

Till'  actiiHi  of  rfie  Chun-h  as  the  protector  of  the  weak,  wilii 
l})e  accompanying  evil  to  which  it  was  exposed  in  the  temptation 
to  go  beyond  its  proper  function,  ore  forcibly  itatcd,  and  there 
is  a  very  clear  and  imjiartial  estimate  of  the  advantages  and  tbc 
disadvimtagL-s  of  mouastictsin,  as  to  which  the  Dean  agrees  nuhcr 
with  the  opinions  which  we  oorselves  have  lately  expressed  thut 
widi  the  more  romantic  views  of  M  de  Moiitikmbert.  AmoD^ 
other  subjects  which  are  discussed  are  the  Crusades, — as  to  which 
tbc  author  is  careful  to  point  out  the  ^ood  which  rcsultctl  from 
them,  notwithstanding  all  that  was  mistaken  in  tbc  design, 
faulty  in  tbc  execution,  or  unsuccessful  in  the  result  as  to  thctr 
immediati^  objert  (pp.  48,  seqq.) ; — and  the  influence  oi'  the 
institution  of  chivalr}',  and  tho  rise  of  universities.  In  con- 
nexion with  the  last  of  these  subjects,  the  author  is  led  into  a 
defence  of  liberal  education,  as  distinguished  frum  tbc  special 
training  fur  a  profession  ;  and  wc  extract  a  passage  which  may  be 
nsad  with  interest  even  by  those  wlio  are  aJrcaily  acquainted 
with  the  brilliant  Lectnres  in  which  Dr.  Newman  (although 
not  without  some  display  of  his  Roman  peculiarities)  has  lately 
advocateil  the  same  cause — 

'  A  liberal  education  ig  to  tho  present  time  the  cbatactoristle  of 
what  is  called  a  nuiTer&ty  edacation.  By  a  liberal  edacotion  is 
meant  a  non-profosaioDal  oduoation.  By  a  Don-profbssioual  uduoation 
ifl  metut  nil  cdncation  cunduotod  without  reference  to  the  fotnro  prtK 
Ebarion,  ax  calling,  or  Hpeeial  pttrsoit  for  which  tho  penun  under 
edocaticm  is  designed.  It  is  on  education  whioh  is  regarded  not 
merely  u  a  mciuis,  but  as  Bomething  which  in  in  itsolf  on  oad.  ^le 
end  i>ropo0ed  is  not  tho  formation  of  the  diviiM,  or  tho  phymoiaii,  or 
thu  uwyur,  or  the  statesman,  or  tho  soldior,  or  tho  man  of  hnsineaa, 
or  the  iMiioiiist,  or  the  chemist,  or  tho  nuui  of  scieuco,  or  even  the 
scholar ;  but  Himply  of  the  thiukor. 

'  It  is  odiuittud  tlint  tliti  highest  eminonoe  oon  only  bo  attainod 
by  the  ooooontratiou  of  the  miud,  witli  u  piercing  intensity  ood 
gingleneea  of  viow.  npon  one  field  of  aotiou.  In  order  to  excel,  o«cb 
mind  most  have  ltd  8pvci£c  und.  A  miui  may  know  many  tliingR 
well,  but  there  is  only  one  thing  upon  which  he  will  be  pre-eminent^ 
louuod,  and  become  an  authority.  The  profeedonol  man  may  be 
oomporad  to  one  whose  eyo  is  fixed  njvno  a  micriNfioope.     The  rest  of 

the 


• 


d 


Lives  of  the  ArchbUhops  of  Cattterhury.  95 

__  [irld  ie  nbBtraeted  from  his  fiold  of  nRion,  and  the  eye,  though 
lUUTOiTOil  to  a  scarcely  pcrooptiblQ  Lole,  is  ablu  (o  ecu  wliot  is  indis- 
ccrttiblu  hy  otlicni.  ^Iiuu  Iiu  ulwurrus  accoratelj^  ho  becomes,  in  has 
Apartment,  a  Icarncl  Tunn,  and  when  he  roveals  hia  DbserTatioDa  ho 
is  A  benefactor  of  his  kiu<1.  All  that  the  imivotsity  system  docs  it  to 
duUy  iho  profe68toiml  L-duuatiou  aa  lung  ob  poaiuMo ;  it  would  npplv 
to  the  traiuing  nf  tho  mind  a  diaciplino  analogoiu  to  that  wmcn 
oommon  BonsQ  RnggcRts  id  what  n>lat4j«  to  bodily  oxeroiso.  A  father, 
atnbitiona  for  his  son  that  he  might  win  tho  pnzu  nt  tho  Olympian 
paOBH,  or  in  tlie  I'j-thiau  ficldi^  dovutud  bis  firet  Ktt&ntian  not  to  tho 
technicalities  of  the  ^ame,  but  to  tho  general  conditiou  and  morals  of 
the  youth.  Tho  Hocoees  of  tho  athlete  d(^>cnded  upon  Me  firBt  t)(jcuiuiug 
u  hualthy  man.  So  tho  univonuty  Bytitoni  traiiu)  the  man  and  de&^rs 
the  prufeesiooal  odncation  aa  long  tm  circnmatanocg  will  jwriuit.  It 
toaluH  provision,  beforu  tho  eyo  is  narrowed  to  tho  microscope,  that 
tbo  eye  itself  shall  be  in  a  healthy  condition  ;  it  oxjmiids  t)io  mind 
before  contracting  it,  it  wonld  odocato  mind  as  soch  before  bonding 
it  down  til  tho  pruffSAinniil  point ;  it  does  not  regard  tho  mind 
w  an  animal  to  bo  fattened  for  tho  market,  by  cramming  it  with  fuod 
bcforo  it  has  acqnirod  tho  power  of  digestion ;  bat  treats  it  rather  a& 
so  instrument  to  ho  tnuod,  us  a  motal  to  bo  rofined,  as  a  weapon  to  be 


.his  is  the  system  which  tho  old  muTcrBitici  of  Europe  have 
tnheritod. 

'Philology,  logic,  tuid  maUicuiuticB^  oro  etill  tho  inbinunonte 
employed  for  the  discipline  of  tho  mind,  which  is  the  end  and  object 
of  a  lilwral  udactdaon.' — (ii.  C3-5.) 

Dean  Hook  remarks  that  nil  the  old  nutiioritics  for  the  hlstor}' 
of  die  Aiiglo^Normnn  timo,  with  tin;  rxcojttitm  of  tho  letlrrs  of 
Herkd's  ai]i:ij,'imisi,  Ciilbi-rt  l-'oliot,  itn;  on  tbt*  side  ujipiisitd  Ui 
tlif  Cruwu.  i'liiii  statement  is,  inileed,  sumewhat  too  broad  ;  for 
such  chroniclers  as  Kalpb  de  Diceto  and  William  of  Newburgh 
re  ccrtajnly  nut  to  be  reckoned  as  viulcutly  bieraTchica.)  and 
Iversc  to  tlie  royal  sido,  even  as  to  the  question  Ixttween  Henry  II. 
And  Bii'kul :  while  Robert  of  Thoripny  1*  in  general  a  strong 
partisan  of  Henry,  although  as  to  that  particular  question  he 
observes  a  remarkable  silence  until  he  reaches  the  point  at  which 
all  men  pnifosscd  to  agree  in  reprobation  of  the  Archbisliop's 
mnrdcr,  and  in  rcrcrence  for  him  as  a  martvr.  6ut»  be  this  as  it 
mav,  the  Dean  is  determined  to  be  impartial,  and  in  as  far  as 
nosailile  to  make  up  from  lils  own  resources  for  such  defects  at 
have  been  left  in  the  evidence  by  the  prejudices  of  former  ages, 
bj  the  ravages  of  time,  or  by  the  timidity  of  some  ebrniiielcrs 
who  were  anwillin}^  to  gti  ngninst  the  streani  of  npinlnn  curreol 
in  their  own  class.  As  the  authorities  are  all  on  one  side,  and 
are  strongly  tinged  by  the  *  odium  tbeologicum,  which  is  of  all 

passions 


XiMi  of  the  Archhisfu^  qf  CaiUerbury. 


passions  tbe  most  unscrupulous  in  tbe  discoloration  of  facts  antl 
the  aspersion  of  character,'  be  is — 

'  inclined  in  the  personal  diRpittcs  bctn*eon  tbo  kings  and  the  arch- 
IjialtopB  to  tako  the  mo^t  fAvunmhlo  rjew  tliat  oircnmtttances  vnil  per- 
mit of  tlic  oayingB  and  doJuga  of  the  furniur.  The  kings  wcro  gone- 
rally  right  in  principle,  thua^  placing  thcmsclvtie  in  the  viTong  hy 
the  ungoTemablo  temper  which  woe  llu>ir  cqtbo,  if  not  on  horoditot^ 
miuun.'— (ii.  68,) 

And  in  tr;iTh  he  sonictimes  adrocatcs  the  royal  side  to  a  degree 
which  is  rather  surprising- 

Dean  Hciok  (xmstdcrs  lliat  Archbisliup  Lonfrane  was  the  author 
of  tht?  Niirinan  Coiufueior's  ecf  lusiastical  ]H>Iic^',  *  which  tliL*  suc- 
cessors of  Uie  Conqueror  endeavoured  to  enforce,  and  which  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  successors  of  Lanfranc,  such  as 
Anselm  and  IJcckct,  endeavoured  lo  put  aside'  (ii.  143);  but  we 
must  hesitate  to  follow  our  author  to  me  full  extent  of  his  opinions 
in  this  mailer.  No  doubt  William  and  Lanfranc  undei-stood 
each  othfir,  and  worked  cordially  together;  and  while  Wiltiam 
was  the  one  sovereiffn  of  the  time  to  whom  Grejjfory  VII.  did  oot 
venture  todictate,  tliere  was  no  great  sympathy  between  Lnnfranc 
and  Gregory.  The  Archbishop  did  not  enter  into  tbe  scheme  of 
papal  dominion  :  he  was  not  very  zfaloua  for  (In;gory,  as  opposed 
to  the  antt}N>pc  Clement ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  cucha- 
ristic  controversy,  where  Lanfranc  was  the  chief  advocate  of 
transubsiantiatiori,  Gregory  took  little  interest,  and  was  willing; 
to  tolerate  the  opinions  of  Lanfmnc's  opponent  Berengnr.'  But 
that  Lanfranc  supposed  the  King  of  r.nglnml — whose  kingdom 
had  hern  gainetl  under  a  banner  consecrated  by  Pojw  AU^- 
ander  U. — to  have  any  right  in  ecclesiastical  matters  which  had 
not  beIong«l  to  bim  as  Duke  of  Normandy,  or  in  which  other 
sovereigns  did  not  Bbanr,t  we  must  hesitate  to  believe.  As  a 
8{)eciinen  of  tlu-  liberties  of  tht*  national  Church,  Dean  H<iDk 
tells  as  that — 

*  When  there  were  two  or  mate  popCH  in  existence,  as  iras  froqnontly 
the  case  in  the  uuBOrablu  sclufiius  of  the  age,  the  right  of  chiKning  his 


4 
I 


*  At  to  Uiii  coDliovvrK)',  Dcaa  Hook  wefOH  lo  overrftte  tU«  amcunt  of  ptvTiou 
»cc|u«iuuuc«  brtwei^o  lanfranc  nnil  l^rcngar  fli.  IMi),  The  old  bioftnpb^r  et 
LanfmBCr  in  nying  tliftt  Bcrcoj;&r  -wrnU  to  him,  'iptaai  funiliari  boo'  'Migu, 
Patrol,  cL  34).  mcane,  appai-vudy,  ttjal  the;  ««re  Dot  on  such  trroii  m  would 
have  womuitt'd  Ifac  familiar  midrew. 

t  Thin  I'laiin  was  sBHoned  \ij  Williain  Kunia,  u  ippc&rt  from  a  speech  of  tJw 
Bi&hop  of  Darham  lo  AoHln.  'Qaod  culm  domiatu  tuns  CI  oMier  in  ooni 
domiuationc  sua  prrcipuuiu  hutwbnt,  ri  in  fin  «uin  cvmcHa  rtpibna  Dnnfctrv  rvrf<«« 
at,  lio«  ei  qiumiatu  in  tc  est  inti{iic  ta)lt«.*  Eadmer,  *Hut.  nororaiu.*  I.  i. 
(Mignc,  dtx.,  384.; 

pop* 


Lives  ofthi  Arc/UniJioi/s  of  Canterbury. 


97 


'08  vested  in  tho  kuig  ;  ea  Ibnt  tliB  clergy  n-cre  not  {N!raiiUud  to 
acknuwiedffe  any  uno  ns  pnpa  tintil  the  ro}-nl  couscnt  lind  beoo  ob- 
tained.'—(l.  141.) 

Kn{;l.in4l  had.  n<f  doubt,  the  ri^lit  ti>  cbon&c*  its  I'ope  in  cases 
whore  ibe  cardinals  bad  made  n  disputwl  election;  for  the?  deci- 
sion in  such  case*  was  sotlled  b_v  tbfir''ncnil  mlbrsiun  of  VVVslem 
Cbristrndum  tn  one  or  the  other  uf  the  rival  I*oj)es,  But  that  the 
part  which  Mn^land  was  In  espouse  should  be  detciinine*!  hy  the 
Kin^  alone,  apjiears  to  us  botl-i  an  unlikely  and  a  very  inexpedient 
anangpinent.  F.lscwbere,  sovereifnis  claimed  no  such  exchisive 
powerof  decision.  Henry  !V.  of  Germany  wassupportcd  liy  eoun- 
ril<  of  German  and  Italian  prelates  in  bis  opposition  to  Gregory 
\  11.,  anil  I'rederick  llarlKin»Kn  in  his  oppisition  to  Ah-xander  111.; 
anri  that  the  mere  ivill  of  a  kinjf  who,  in  addition  to  beintr  '"nut 
II  g-entlrman,'  niijrlit  Iw  noloriouslv  a  man  of  no  relifrious  i'e<>ling, 
»himld  iniiHi»-  a  piipc  on  tlie  English  clert;\,  in  opjMijiition  to 
theli-  uwii  judgment  and  to  tho  majority  of  Latin  ('hriatcndom. 
would  surely  have  been  a  very  t{ucstionable  advantaofe  for  them 
— a  piece  of  national  libcrtv  in  church  matters  which  they  might 
jx»»ibly  luivf  n-^ardcd  ns  very  like  slavery. 

The  contest  between  Church  and  State  bejjan  under  Lanfranc's 
successoi.  Anselm.  Among  late  writers  in  general,  there  ha» 
bcrn  a  dis|>ositiun  to  treat  this  eminent  man  kindly.  His  genius 
aa  a.  philosopher  and  a  thcolo^i.in— hi&  saintly  reputation — his 
suffeiinpa  for  his  cause  and  his  behaviour  under  them— his  en- 
^ngin^  personal  character,  as  reprt-scnted  by  liis  biographer 
Kadoier — all  bespeak  nur  interest,  while  we  look  with  natural 
dislike  on  die  brutal  and  profane  William  Kufns  and  on  the  able 
iHit  miicrupulouB  Henry  IJeauclerc.  But  Dean  Ho»tk"s  view  of 
Anselm  is  far  less  favourable.  While  allowing  him  credit  for 
ability,  learning,  and  sanctity,  he  thinks  that  the  Arehbitibop  was 
a  man  at  once  unpractical  and  impracticable — a  prey  to  a  subtle 
form  <if  pride,  wliith,  unsuspected  by  himself  or  by  his  friends, 
swaye<l  him  in  all  his  actions  and  led  him  into  grievous  and 
calamitouii  errors: — 

'For  three-ond-lhirty  happy  ycani  Anseliu  lived  f&t  Bccj  on  object 
of  odnlation,  wboMc  sayingK  wcrn  recordod  an  the  dictated  uf  vrisdoni, 
whose  word  ■was  law.  The  men  revered  him,  the  women  lovod  him,  the 
t«Ugioas  world  huuuun-d  hint  an  u  suiut,  the  profane  world  regarded 
hito  la  tmdowtsd  with  virtucH  mure  than  human.  Xotwitbtttaiidiiig  liis 
nutnjrand  grtat  virtues.  Anselm.  neverthult**,  wna  only  a  ma",  and 
waa  not  exempt  frum  the  faalt«  and  frailties  ever  inc idcuc  tu  hiimiuiity. 
Wo  ore  not  Burpriiied  to  find  the  «iii  of  spirituiil  pride,  notwith- 
standing the  semblance  uf  humility,  developing  itself  m  hi»  character, 
iinfxrccptiblj*  to  himwelf,  and  not    acknowledged  by  his   lulnuwi-s. 

V..I.  112.— A*.>.  '2-23.  H  Through 


98  Live»  i^  the  ArchbUhcp*  of  Canterbury. 

Throngb  fmiritn*]  pride,  with  its  concomitant  Bclf-complnpcncy.  bo 
never  uuagiued  it  poesiLld  tliat  lie  could  bo  mistaken  in  his  jiuigTnr;nt ; 
and  while  be  cspccted  an  immediate  nctjnieRceDou  in  bin  ojiiniitna  on 
the  purl  (if  nthcre,  he  treated  nil  who  diffurtxl  from  him,  not  with  auger, 
for  ho  did  not  often  lose  his  tcrapor,  but  with  pity,  whicli,  implying 
fmperioritj,  wm  especiiLllj-  pmvuVin}^  to  tlioKc  ttLo  had  bei^n  pro- 
viously  irritalotl  or  conU.-mued.  It  in  to  tliis  fnull  of  character,  toga- 
Iher  with  bis  ignorance  of  hunum  nutoro,  that  wo  may  trace  mucb  of 
the  tronblo  to  which  he  was  sabjectod  iu  hia  later  yeuv,  and  no  saull 
poiiiuii  of  the  evils  of  which  he  was  the  nnixiiiBCtong  cause.' — 
(pp.  182-183.)  . 

We  can  quite  b(>licre  in  the  possJbilit>'  of  such  a  character  as 
that  which  is  here  so  forciblv  skftcbrd  ;  hat  we  do  not  think  that 
Ansplm's  chamctiT  was  of  this  kiiul.  The  (li'-srHptiim  serins  to 
us  ini-onsistfiiit,  not  onlv  with  Kailmer's  a(:ci>unt  of  him,  hut  wttb 
the  toni!  anil  spirit  of  his  own  works.  Tlial  Williiini  Rufus  wac 
a  bad  man,  Ur.  Hook  verv  fully  allows  ;  but  he  believes  that  a  more 
prudent  tacticiiin  than  Ansetm  would  have  known  how  to  manage 
him,  and  the  whole  courwi-  of  the  coiit*'St  between  tlic  two  is 
represented  ns  a  string  of  displnya  of  *  want  of  tncl '  on  tlie  An-h- 
bisliop's  jKvit  (ii.  IPiVISV)).  'ITiere  is,  inde4>d,  something  like  a 
%'ein  of  caricature  tliroughout  the  account  of  Ansetm,  and,  as  we 
have  already  seen  that  Dr.  Hook  on  principle  niakc-s  the  best 
tliat  be  con  of  the  Kings,  so  it  seems  as  if  in  this  instance  he  were  ^- 
resolved  to  make  the  worst  that  be  could  of  the  Arehbishop.  H 
Thu-t,  wi:-  are  lohl  thut,  after  having  declined  two  iiivilations  from 
Hugh,  Earl  of  Chester.  Anselm  came  to  I'jngland  on  being  asked 
a  third  time,  befause  be  had  lieen  *  assailed  in  his  weak  poioL 
Tlic  Karl's  salvation  might  depend  on  his  receiving  spiritual  con- 
solation from  so  holy  a  man '  (ii.  188).  VVTien  the  King  and  the 
Archbishop  Itad  had  a  differpnce  as  to  the  .imount  of  the  present 
which  Anselm  was  expectetl  to  offer  on  bis  promotion,  we  arc 
ironically  told  that — 

'Anselm  rctnmcd  to  rftntcrbury  self Batiafied ;  ho  had  done  lib 
duty;  he  had  made  his  offering;  the  rejection  of  it  had  exoncnttcd 
him  fruui  all  HW«ptoioii  of  itimony  ;  he  had  maiubiim:d  bts  iliguity  ; 
he  bad  given  good  advice  to  tbo  king.  What  moit  could  tlie  wwld, 
ibe  Cborch,  or  hia  eooscienoe  require  of  him  T — (ii.  liJti.) 

So,  after  anotlier  collision,  it  is  snid  that  'the  Arrhbishon 
retum«I  to  Cantrrhiiry,  there  t<)  receive  the  ailulation  to  whtcli 
he  was  accustomed  from  monks  and  women  ;*  and  be  is  repre- 
sented as  satisfied  that  gross  abuses  should  continue,  because  be 
hail  been  prevented  by  formalities  from  correcting  tliem  in  the  way 
which  be  would  have  best  likcNl ;  while  'one  thing*  imlv  '  weighrd 
upon  his  mind  —  he  had   not  yet  attained  the  pall     (ii.  2<H). 

Again, 


« 


I 


d 


Imus  of  the  Artkbishoja  of  Canlerimry. 


9B 


Af^in,  when  a  qoestion  arose  as  to  tbe  eqaipment  of  the  soldiers 
whom  the  Arrhbislto])  svM  as  hU  contingent  for  an  rJtpc'litton 
against  the  WeUh,  it  is  «aiil  that  thry  were  such  as  ^  ovi-n  Falstalf 
wauhl  have  l>erji  ashameil  U>  pass  through  the  guoti  city  "f 
Coventry'  with  (it.  217).  Ansnlm  is  rrpresenled  again  and 
again  ai  lecturing  the  King  in  an  unbecomingly  *su|»u'C'ilious* 
and  oracular  tone.  He  u  blamed  for  VVUliams  relapse  into 
vicious  cuursps  after  having  Tunefl  amendment  in  a  dangerous 
sii-kuf.*ss  (ii.  19j$).  Kven  his  ntlai-k  an  t]u:  nourdv  fashions  of 
curled  locks  iuid  pointed  sh<>t»  is  n-orcKeiited  as  if  hu  warred 
against  diese  follies  on  their  own  u  count,  whereas,  in  truth, 
they  were  olleiisive  to  bim  as  tiie  outward  symbols  of  a  lui.urious, 
nnmanly,  aiirl  gn>ssly  vicious  life.  And,  besides  these  smaller 
matters,  it  srvuis  to  us  that  Dr.  Hook  lias  strained  things  tf>  the 
utmost  on  the  opposite  side.  For  instance,— one  uf  the  points 
in  dispute  bct^rcen  William  and  Ansetm  was  the  practice  of 
keeping  bishopricks  and  abbacies  long  vacant,  while  the  income 
during  the  vacancy  was  appmpriated  by  the  King ;  and  even  this 
Dran  Hook  defends  as  follows  : — 

*  The  temporalities  of  an  episcopal  see  dozing  a  vacaucy  were  then, 
•s  now,  in  tbt-  hands  of  the  king.  Dut  in  mudcru  times,  when  thftj 
nuo'cety  of  tliu  law  haa  htxiu  astiurtud,  cuulusiuHtiual  pmpcrty  is  caro- 
fally  haetanded.  and  the  scciunolatian  paid  over  to  tiio  incnmbctit  nn 
his  appointment,  the  corporation  sole  never  having  coaaed  to  exist. 
In  th«i  eleventh  century,  as  Uie  pruiterty  of  u  minor,  though  made  over 
to  him  when  he  come  of  sge,  was  applied  by  the  Huzoraiu  to  his 
ovn  pnrjtoses  during  the  minority,  ho  William  aanimed  the  pus- 
Mtflsiuu  of  rdl  tlie  j)rt>porty  belonging  to  n  vacant  bishnprie  or  abbey  \ 
and,  iu  order  that  the  royal  eoflers  inight  lie  tilled,  he  prolonged 
Tsciuicv  to  an  iudofinito  period  by  rcftising  to  nominate  to  the  office^ 
-(>.  18G.) 

But  on  this  we  may  remark,  thot  the  pmrtire  nf  William  Rufi 
was  entirely  a  novelty;  that  in  Saxon  times  the  revenues  of 
vacant  abbacy  or  bishnprick  were  applied,  under  the  care  of  tl 
bishop  or  the  archbishop,  as  the  case  might  Ik,  to  religious  or' 
charitable  uses ;  that  under  the  Conquonir  they  were,  as  now, 
'rarefidly  huslwnded,  ami  the  accumulation  jKiid  over  to  the  [m-xt] 
inrumtn-nt.'*  And,  as  the  practice  of  seizing  the  in(K)me  for  tlie 
King  was  novel,  si>,  too,  it  bnmght  nith  it  a  temptation,  which 
hiul  not  before  existed,  to  prolong  the  vacancy  for  the  sake  of  the 
profits.  Nor  is  there  any  force  in  the  sup|>09cd  analogy  with  the 
CUSP  of  lov  lamhiwners  during  their  minority ;  land  was  held 
in  feudal  times  under  the  obligation  of  military  service — an 
obligatioD   which  a  minor  could  not  fulfil ;  and   minority   was 


neither 
lengtliontnl  out  bv  litm  ;  wlicrens  tliv  %'ac-aiicy  o]  s(h>»  anU  ubbeyk 
bcviMuI  a  rcasfinnble  tiinu  was  entirely  due  to  the  King's  will. 
We  need  not  dwell  ou  tUe  wu»t<*  ami  spoil,  or  on  the  cruel  frriiid- 
ing-  "f  the  tenants,  which  seem  Ut  liav<^  been  usmilly  comrailted 
during  sueb  vai-atiries,  for  tUi--  King's  prolil,  ajid  to  the  damage 
of  future  incunibeuts  ;  but  the  main  objection  to  tlie  system  is  of 
another  kind,  namely,  that  for  the  sake  of  putting  into  tke  King's 
purse  money  which  did  not  belong  to  him,  the  spiritual  sujicrin- 
tendrnrc  of  abljcys,  diocesos,  or  provinces,  was  left  in  abi'yancre 
lor  vettTS,  We  are  sure  th:,t  Dean  Hook  would  bp  one  of  the  last 
men  delibemtcly  to  make  light  of  this  objei-tinn  ;  and  we  must 
nvow  iliat  we  have  been  utterly  surprised  at  finding  him  inclined 
to  defend  or  to  palliate  the  abuse  in  question. 

Agnin — as  to  the  choice  between  Pope  Urban  and  his  oppo- 
nent, which  became  a  subject  of  dispute  Imtween  the  Archbishop 
and  the  King,  we  are  told  tliat — 

*  An8«lm  was  clearly  in  the  wrong.  His  first  step  should  have  been 
to  call  upon  liViUiiun  tu  keep  the  promitw  formerly  mado  to  the  arcb- 
bisbup,  and  to  dcclara  publicly  whether  h*-  would  admit  tht:  uluiius  uf 
Urban  or  thtMse  oi  ClemcDt.  As  Anacbn,  while  abbot  of  Bee.  had 
rec0iT«d  Urban  as  his  pop«,  if  the  king  had  chosen  Clemc-ut,  the  arch- 
bishop might  have  ruoigued.  Rut  he  had  no  right  wlisti-ver  to  make 
his  cloction  irrespectively  of  the  royal  aathority.  — (ii.  2U6.) 

Here  it  seems  to  us  that  the  rase  is  put  unfairly  against 
Anselm.  For,  although  the  King  had  not  made  a  dedamtion 
whirtber  he  would  adhere  bi  run-  or  to  llie  nthtO'  ut  the  riral 
Popes,  Anselni  had  expressly  iiitiinated  to  him,  before  receiving 
consecration  as  Archbishop,  that  he  held  himself  bound  by  the 
acknowledgment  of  Urban,  which  he  had  made  as  ablw»t  of  Bet; 
and  William,  by  favouring  his  proniotion  to  Oie  archbishoprick, 
nntn'ithstaiuliiig  that  declaration,  must  have  l>cen  cxrnsitlered  as 
pledging  himself  to  the  side  <if  Url»n.  But  for  the  understand- 
ing that  there  would  be  no  difiiculty  as  to  the  question  of  Pope 
or  Anti-Hope,  Anselm  would  not  have  accepted  the  primacy ;  and 
when  he  signified  to  the  King  his  intention  of  seeking  the  pall 
from  the  Pope  (which  was  then  an  essential  form  f<»r  the  exercise 
of  metropilitan  authority),  llif*  Kinij's  que-stlon,  *  Fmm  which 
Pope?*  and  his  furioas  dcclaraliim  that  he  would  have  no  Pope 
ownml  except  by  his  own  authority,  were  really  a  breach  of  ■ 
pmitire  rngagement,  on  which  Anselm  bad  staked  tlje  whole 
<!oursi>  of  his  future  life.  Indeetl.  as  to  the  ronte&ts  between 
Aiwelm  ami  the  sons  of  the  Conqueror,  it  seems  to  us  that  !>ean 
Hook  has  really  said  as  much  as  is  necessary  for  the  Arch- 
bishop's justification,  in  admitting  that  *tlie  bad  men,  William 

tnd 


I 
I 


I 


A 


Xt'cv«  vf  the  Arclibishops  of  Cantrrbun/. 


101 


and  Hcnrv,  to  whom  he  wns  opposed,  tboufjlit  nothing  of  the 
Chiirrh,  but  simply  of  their  own  auttioritv  *  (ii.  266).  It  is  true 
thnt  Anselm's  opposition  was  carried  on  in  the  interest  of  the 
pnjMrv ;  .in<l  we  tully  agree  with  Dean  \hxiV  in  thinking;  that 
'  the  experience  of  ages '  has  shown  thnt  what  was  then  reganU'd 
as  the  libei'tv  of  the  Church  involved  '  the  most  oppressive 
spiritual  dcsjwitism.'  But  we  arc  not  inclined  to  blnme  Anselm 
for  hnving  nctcil  acrnnling  lo  his  lights,  and  it  is  evident  thnt 
ihp  prntcnsinmi  of  the  Anglo-Norman  kings,  especially  when 
ftsitcrted  by  men  of  Kuch  chamrter  as  theirs,  were  equally  fauliv 
on  the  other  side. 

In  short,  while  we  agrre  with  Hean  Hook  that  Anselm  was  a 
man  of  thought  and  speeulation.  i-ather  than  one  well  qualified 
for  aetivi-  life— while  ui-  l>e]ifV(>  that,  although  William  Rufus 
rould  not  have  been  managed  rjuile  su  easily  or  so  i-nttrelv  as 
our  author  supposes,  yet  something  might  have  been  made  of 
him  by  skilful  management — it  appears  to  as  that  Anselm — 
in  some  respeets  the  gn^atest  of  all  tlie  English  primairs — has 
not  met  with  entire  justice  at  the  biographer's  hands.  MureovLT, 
as  the  Dean  does  not  profess  to  \vrite  the  literary  history  of 
the  Archbishops,  Anselm  lias  the  disadvantage  of  appearing 
herr  in  that  part  of  his  character  only  which  is  the  most  open 
to  ditqiute,  while  we  are  obliged  to  take  almost  wholly  on  crust 
those  merits  which  made  him  the  greatest  teacher  of  the  Church 
since  Augustine  of  IIip]K>.* 

Passing  over  the  lives  of  Kalph  of  Esrures,  of  William  of 
CovbeiL.  ami  of  Theobald,  we  come  to  the  more  famous  name  of 
Thomas  Beckct.  But  the  very  tact  that  so  much  has  lately  been 
written  about  this  Archbishop  makes  it  the  less  necessiry  for  tis 
to  discuss  his  character  and  history ;  nor  are  we  incHniHl  to  enter 
here  into  any  disputes  with  the  champions  who,  from  very 
Various  quarters,  have  lately  risen  up  to  do  battle  for  him — 
fXtTf'me  Romanists  ami  Hildebran<lizing  Anglicans — theorists 
who  regard  him  as  the  champion  of  an  opfiressed  iiationality,  ur 
those  whosf?  favour  is  ready  to  wait  on  luiy  opponent  of  any 
rovalty.  Dt-an  H(H>k,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  does  not 
belong  to  &ny  of  these  classes.  He  justifies  Becket's  opposition, 
as  Chancellor,  to  the  hierarchical  claims  which  lie  afterwards 
ajssertnl  (it.  .H.'K)).  He  is  little  iuclitiiil  ti>  regard  him  as  a  saint. 
He  thinks  liim  wnmg  as  lo  the  question  of  exemirtirig  the  clergy 
from   secular    jurisdiction   (ii.   o97).      In  the  'Constitutions  of 

*  W«  tany  notice  that  a  tlialo^e.  K-nriiiii  rhe  title  of '  Elucidinutn,'  which  hu 
bjr  muM  hrvu  xKCctlNni  ta  Aittvlu.  sjid  which  Dvou  Uook  qiioii*  largely  u  ilw 
wt>rk  of  Lanfranc  (it..  OS-lo&j.  U  rrnllj-  hv  u.  ■a)iii«what  later  nathor,  lionnrioa 
nf  AuUiu.    S««  Higve,  clxxii.  l^,  or  th«  ■  Imt.  Lin^mirv  de  U  Pnnte,'  I.  xii. 

Clareadou* 


102  Lives  of  the  Archbishops  of  Canttrhury. 

Clarendon '  he  teca  nothiiij^  but  old  Eni^luh  (and,  therefore, 
his   view,   ritfht)   principle  as   to   the   rrlations   of   Chiirrh    and 
Stntp  (ii.  40y).     His  general  view  of  the  Archbishop's  struggle  is 
thus  summed  up : — 

The  toDdcDcy  of  B^ket's  prlncipl«  wu  fo  mpersode  ■  eitfS 

iidespotiian,  and  to  e^tnblisb,  which  is  worme,  a  Apinhutl  d«npotinn; 

fhnt  in  point  (if  fiict  he  was  a  higli-principlt-d,  high-fipirite<l  donut- 
grigne,  who  wiw  teaching  the  people  bow  to  etnigfilo  for  tiieir  libortiea ; 
ft  stmgglo  which  was  sood  to  ooinmenoe.'^ — (ii.  •197.),' 

lo  sn  far,  then,  ns  Anselm  and  Beclcet  hail  tlte  cnmmon  object 
of  establishing^  n  Pajwi!  drapiitism  in  ujipositinn  to  that  of  the 
KnjGrlish  Cron-n,  Dean  tlook  disapprorc«  of  both  alike ;  but  It 
would  Beem  that  the  tendency  of  Becket's  proceedings  to  work 
out  civil  lihprtr,  has  prueiired  for  him  a  dpgrre  of  Bvmpntby 
whitrh  is  denied  t«  Ansi-lin.  At  all  evrntJi,  tht?  later  iLrchbishop 
is  treati'd  witli  far  greater  indulgenee  than  the  earlier. 

Dean  Hook  and  Mr.  Pearson  .igree  with  other  late  writers  in 
wishing  that  the  materials  for  the  history  of  Becket  may  soon  6Dd 
some  more  satisfactory  editor  than  Dr.  Hilcs;  and  in  this  wish 
every  one  who  has  any  knowledge  of  r>r.  Giles'  volumes  must 
heartily  concur.  Tliere  is  only  one  quarter  to  wliith  we  can  look 
tor  the  means  of  prcxlucing  a  new  edition — the  fund  girinted  by  the 
I^ords  of  the  Treasun'  for  the  pubHration  of  the  *  Chronicles  and 
Memorials  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  ;'  and,  indeed,  it  may  be 
snid  that  our  future  estimate  of  Dr.  fiiles'  labours  will  depend  on 
tlic  eminent  person  with  whom  the  selection  iif  worts  for  that 
series  rests.  Without  the  aid  of  public  money  a  new  eilition  i« 
not  to  be  expected  ;  while  it  may  prtrtty  safely  be  assumed  that, 
but  for  the  existence  of  Dr.  Giles'  etlition,  there  would  have  been 
no  question  as  to  thr  pmprietv  of  including  the  livps  and  mrre- 
spnndcnce  of  Becket  among  the  volumes  to  Iw  issued  by  the 
Master  of  the  Rolls.  If,  thcrofure,  a  nt-w  edition  in  that  series 
be  gTai)te<l.  wc  shall  be  able  to  think  of  Dr.  Giles  as  a  useful 
pioneer;  if  it  be  refused,  we  must  regard  him  as  having  pre- 
venteil,  by  his  uuhnppv  pnlilii-alion,  a  gotxl  work,  which  but  for 
him  woidd  Ktmiist  rertiiiid\  have  been  done. 

If  a  new  edition  Iw  undertaken,  we  may  expect  it  to  contftin,  in 
addition  to  the  materials  collected  by  Dr.  Giles,  not  only  iKo 
metrical  Life  by  Gamier,  which  has  been  published  by  I*n>- 
fessors  Bekker,  of  Berlin,  and  Hippmu,  of  Catni,  anil  the  sa|>- 
picmentan'  pieces  which  Dr.  Giles  bims4df  has  sent  forth  throo^li 
the  medium  of  the  *  Caxton  Sftciety,*  but  prolnbly  other  Uiings 

of 

*  As  tn  oae  of  these,  a  composite  biography  on  the  plan  of  the  ■  Qosdritogos,' 
wUeh  Dr.  Giles  sscribei  (o  a  supposed  *  Phtltp  of  iMft'  (AMcdots  IMm,  ftc. 


i 


4 


J 


Z.iv€s  ofOie  Ardihiahops  of  Canterbury. 


uf  importance  which  have  aerer  yet  appeared  iii  print  lli«t« 
ma  J,  itiili^ctl,  Ik!  a  question  as  to  the  cipcvlicnry  of  piiblishinf; 
the  LiIl-  by  Ui>>lH)p  nnuulisun,  uf  Exitt^r,  nliii-li  apjienrs  to  b(^ 
almoct  mitircly  cumpiU-^l  fmin  bottks  iilrtsaily  priiit*-*!,*  \(ir  even 
if  it  n'ere  possible  in  rtxrorcr  a  coinpilatiou  wliirh  ix  luiitl  tu  liavc 
bc«i  e-xeiuted  by  a  monk  of  CroyUnd,  and  presented  by  the 
abbot  uf  that  monastery  tu  Archbishop  Laugton,!  would  it  be 
worth  priuling,  luiless  it  contaiiuN)  sonio  (.■leiiiciits  peculiar  to 
itsc'IC.  nut  iu  all  probability  then>  must  be  valuable  ualL'riaU  yet 
unprinttML  The  Life  by  VVilllam  of  Canterbury,  for  example, 
whieb  has  until  lately  been  known  only  by  the  extracts  in  the 
'  Quadriloffus,'  i^  said  to  exist  in  a  caniplcte  stato  in  Winchester 
Collc^  ;  and,  if  it  be  considered  how  much  has  been  brought  to 
tight  by  Dr.  Giles,  wc  can  hantly  suppose  but  that  there 
Jtjjl  remains  an  ample  gleaning  to  reward  some  more  pains- 
taking inquirer.  Uut  even  in  the  absence  uf  new  materials, 
the  purgation  of  llie  text  from  the  irmumerable  blunders  which 
dtJifigure  it — tlie  critical  analysis  of  the  Lives,  so  as  to  sbnw 
which  of  tlie  writers  borrowed  from  which,  uiid  to  what  family  of 
tnulition  each  one  is  tu  be  referred  % — above  all,  the  arrangement 

of 


103 
heivl 

tinrr  I 


Vnt.  xy\\.),  we  fhonlil  Imre  8oiiK-()iini;  tosa;,  if  ttii»  w«re  a  fl(  pUcc  for  ditciiMiag 
tlic  siilijecL  Afi  il  is,  wv  filiall  only  }p.Mrd  niirwlvirs  agsiust  Iwing  euppowd  to 
mgtrm  in  tlie  rditot's  vivvn  tu  lo  ihe  anihonhip. 

'  Id  a  ba»t]r  >:xauitii&ligu  of  Uic  Hwllciau  slS^  tb«  coly  UiiDg  which  lU^cIc  ti« 
U  tKW  iu  Ibc  Lifu  it»:It'(iU  <li«tiDsui»bf-i  fiuoi  the  luinicuJuui  ftuppleiucul;  ww 
lh«  Rrrnnnt  of  itif  Archbishop's  iorclj«liiig«  nn  ilw  dar  of  hU  iiiunl^r.  The 
ciib«t»noe  of  tho  psMsfie  U  givea  by  I'rofesscr  Stsn)f>.  id  nU  *  M«ii)orisl«  of  Can- 
terliiir},'  pp^  :-S-'.t,  cd.  H.  finuditon  uiohalily  copied  thtt  trom  eODW  older 
bonk  ;  if  *o,  what  was  it?  adiI  dr^cs  it  Mill  cJiiM? 

t  Wv  hav«  not  observed  thai  inj  moilcm  wriicr  tiu  notWd  the  poMa^  in 
wbich  this  compilsUnn  is  nWDtiaaML  The  cuutinuutor  ot  lugulf  ttmtv^  thiil  Abbot 
Hvary,  l>«dBg  unable  lo  ansnd  the  unoiJiiiou  of  rii.  Thomas,  in  luM,  but  wuhiiiK 
M  (to  boaoar  to  thv  occsuou,  ic-nt  Ihv  Archbivbop  a  book  of  ibi'  tuanyr's  Lift-  nod 
['  Pmrioa.  'a  monacbo  niutiaHterii  >ui  CrvyUod  cgrcgie  cotupibinni.  Quae  itaquv 
euMpilaiiu  f\im<isi  m&nyna  orif^iiicm,  ritani,  tindu,  gvstv  <^xiliulll.  oguueui,  jras- 
Hoocni,  cnnoni:taiioD(;ni,  et  quod  exc«ll<.'iitiiu  est  epi*t«b»  dirti  iiiiirtYnii,  >iiiiu  vvl 
tllv  Kl]i»,->^'1  alii  illi,  vd  ptu  iili>.  Tcl  i-uutra  illoio.  Mil  de  illotcripceruiii,  loci* 
etimpi-iiniilii'*'  (tuignifiiti'i-  iiiseriiit,  ana  cum  Cutaloeo  Erudilorum  ejiudem  our- 
r^«,  luriilctiiiT  ooniinri  ct  declnnl.'  (Ili*t,  CroyliiAd.  ap.  F«U,  ilM-um  AugUc. 
WTi|rf<ir«4,  4T4-J  Th«  pvculi&rily  of  ihr  work  »ppriira  to  ha.ve  c«nauit«d  ib  tbc 
interwifttriag  of  the  corrapujideutu'  with  the  uarnuTir. 

*  We  iii'ji  ht^re  olTfrr  a  itolntloD  of  two  qiK»tiaa8  which  have  puzsled  ■  laU-  bio- 
mpber  of 'll(.s:ki;t,  Mr.  BobttTtSon.  (l.j  After  having  ttutpd  itrnt  the  writer 
known  as 'Anon/iniu  Lombclbctiais '  ib  the  ouly  aneivnt  autbunt}  for  calling 
Beekrt**  moiher  Av^vi.  bm  that  Foot,  in  bis  'Acts  and  Uanummti,'  givca  ber  Ua' 
nuw  of  i^M,  Mr.  Robvrt>oii  iuk*,*Wb«ace  did  b»  derive  ii?'  (p.  14).  Tb« 
■miner  iiyllul  fta.  wa*  ac<{uaiulcd  with  llw  Lanbetli  US.,  wbicb  be  «lwwb«re 
nwntlomBa  '  tiavine  thi*  name  of  th*.-  utiihorcat  out'  i;i.353,«l.  1664 1.  (J.;  U«  boE 
thrown  doobt  on  tn«  ttatemeiit  tbai  Ikcket  raitgncd  hit  ttrchbishopric  into  the 
i'ope'ft  baiidh  at  Sti^i.  cVieflf  on  the  groiuul  iJiul  the  itoiy  becooiGi  moredLiDDCt 
In  prapurtiuii  as  ihi;  writvn  are  inorv  ri'niote  twva  the  toeiw.     '  What  likclibovd 


4 


104 


Lives  of  the  Archhishfpi  <tf  Caiilerhur^. 


of  the  vast  mas«  oi'  letters  (inclmling'  tlioscof  John  of  .Snlisbury,* 
Armilf  iif  Listeux,  Pelcr  of  Blo'is.  iin<l  others,  wliit-h  bear  on  the 
st<irv  iif  Bcrkol)  in  one  utries,  with  [imptT  rfffirtl  to  rhrorinlogy, 
ant]  suinricut  (nltttoti};U  not  too  niurli)  aniiolittion — -th^ao  would 
be  enough  to  cxercisf!  the  skill  of  the  future  eiUiur;  and  by  per- 
forming them  even  in  b  tolerable  degree,  he  would  entitle 
himself  to  the  lieany  (tratilude  of  all  students  of  Knglisb  or  of 
ecflosiastical  histury.  Indeed,  we  caniiot  think  of  such  n  bmik 
without  envying:  the  fortunate  readers,  whom  it  nould  enable  to 
learn  with  ease  and  pleasure,  in  n  few  days,  more  than  the 
plodding'  industn*  of  their  ciders  has  been  able  t»>  discover  in  W) 
many  months,  iii  the  face  of  the  iliHicultics  raisctl,  nimost  as  if 
with  deliberate  malice,  by  the  late  editor  of  *  Snnetus  Tliomas 
Cantuariensis.' 

It  mi^Lit,  ]M>rh:ips,  be  worth  while  to  collect  the  notices  nf 
Becket  which  are  scattered  over  foreign  chronicles;  although 
these  notices,  in  so  far  as  we  know,  are  scanty,  ami  of  no  great 
impoitance.  'I'lius  in  the  Chronicle  of  St.  Lnurencp's  at  Liege,  it 
is  relate*]  that  among  tlie  archbishop's  fellow-students  at  FarU 
was  one  who,  n»  abbot  of  St.  Laurence,  long  after  erecled  the  Grit 
altar  of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  that  was  seen  in  that  rcgion-t 
So,  inthcChrunicIrof  Andres,  a  monastery  near  Ardres,  and  in  that 
of  St.  Hrrtin's,  by  Joliii  of  Vpres,  we  have  s<)me  slight  details  as 
to  the  arch  hi  shop's  last  davs  on  the  return  from  cxile.^  But  it 
seems  prettv  clear  that,  whrci  the  fame  of  St.  Thonins  was  up,  a 
connexion  with  him  was  often  feipieil  for  the  glory  of  particular 
places  or  persons.  The  story  i-clated  by  iMatthew  Paris,  wi  to  a 
sup}K>sed  interview  at  Harrow  with  the  Abbot  of  St.  Alban'*,! 
a[ipc]ir.>i  to  Iw  of  this  kind.  In  like  manner  it  seems  unlikriv  (on 
grounds  of  chronology)  that  he  can  hate  had  among  his  fi-llow 
students   at    Paris,    Cunra<l,    Bishop  ot    Wiirzburg,    who    was   a 

is  there,'  be  iAt.  •  thai  AUn  •honld  h&««  been  to  very  clrcamtlsnliillf  tnfbnwd 
as  to  in  inciilvnl  nf  w!iirh  FitJESk-pIirti  ami  Orini  tprak  k>  TiDcpnnitil)-?'  Tp. 
;!4.1.}  WillKiiit  pniiig  tHrihcrinlii  [he  mitU-r,  wc  miiy  rctnsrk  ihat  Alan,  who  WM 
Hwicd  prior  of  ChrUtchnrch,  Cnntertinrv,  in  1179,  had  twen.utiitl  lir-t.u  canon  ef 
Ucnwcntc,  where  trom  llTa  ihe  archbialiiipHck  was  filK-d  by  Ihihrrt  Lptnlard,tbe 
companiou  of  Keeket'a  atndin  at  I*oniicny.  wbn  mim  iiotnunrilj  bave  l>een  one  ^i 
of  tnc  bigh«t  pMtibte  .iiithnriiiM  a*  lo  t\ie  i^v<>iiu  nf  hi*  vxik-.  (Gervas.  Oorob.  api  ^H 
TwjlHlen,  \.  Scriplorvf,  M.*})}:  O&ccninttlv  Vilis  l'ontitii:iiu,i.  llM^.cd.  Rcnn.  1R17.)  ^| 
Tbii»  it  Hiay  bf  tbat  Alan's  KTatemcnt  rests  xa  indqx^Klntt  InfoniUltioii  of  tht  ^^ 
very  Imtst  kind. 

"  Wtf  have  rery  lately  received  froui  Gcriiianj  a  work   cnliUM  'Johannei  ^ 
Sort.'difritititifs  nacb  L«lK-n   and  Sludioi,  Schriften  und   PhiloMfihie,  vm,  Tir  C.  ^| 
Scti&anrbmidt,  t^iiaif,  IBfia,'    In  so  far  a»  we  bate  been  able  to  rzamine  ihii  ^1 
volnme,  il  appears  to  contain  as  excellent  account  of  John's  life,  writings,  and 
opiatoo*^ 

t  diron,  S-  Latirt-Dt.  1.eod,,  ap.  Manenf,  Coll.  .\ii]|iliM.  St.  1U90.  ^^ 

;  D'Achrrv,  SpiciJ.ii.  eil-'J;  Murtene  Thes^inr,  iii.  r>&7.  ^H 

§  Hist.  .Mnyw,  i33-*  ;  VitB  Abbatntn,  91-3,  vd.  Wuik.  ^BI 

CrDsader 


I 
I 


I 


Lives  of  the  Archbishoja  of  Canterbury. 


105 


Crusader  in  the  end  of  the  rentun",  ami  was  munleretl  in  1202  ;* 
ami  allliniigh  it  may  W  tnif  llmt  Liulolf,  Archhishnji  ol'  Mngilc- 
burg.  w.ts  his  rellow-puiiil  at  Paris,  wo  can  hanllv  supposn  that 
he  Btudin)  there  under  Becket,as  is  sni<t  by  a  writer  in  Leibnitz*s 
collection,!  VVe  even  suspect  that  M.  CSuizot,  in  the  natural 
feeling  of  satisfaction  at  fiiKliiig'  his  (estate  near  Lisieux  con- 
nrrtetl  with  a  rcU'hratctl  nainr,  litis  been  less  critical  than  he 
W4iul(l  Xuwe  otherwise  been  in  tellinp  us,  on  llie  authoritv  of  local 
tmditiun  ami  of  'the  most  learned  Norman  a«ti()uarics,*  that 
Bwket  during  his  exile  visited  the  abbey  of  Val  Richer,  and 
spent  several  moiit^is  there,  eii$raging  in  the  spiritual  exercises 
and  in  the  boililv  labours  of  the  monks  ('Memoires,'  iv.  140-1). 
As  the  grounds  on  which  tlie  Nonnan  antiquaries  have  foundeil 
their  opinion  are  not  given,  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  test 
their  value,  but  the  story  appears  to  us  altofjetlicr  improbable. 
As  the  Val  Richer  was  within  the  English  king's  territories,  it 
is  hardly  to  be  imagined  that  Becket  would  have  ventured  to  the 
place  while  uniler  s<-ntence  of  banishment ;  and,  although  he 
mav  pOKfiiblv  have  tnrnetl  out  of  his  way  to  visit  the  abljot  while 
pTOceediu)'  from  Sens  fo  Kouen,  in  bis  return  to  Luf^land,  his 
visit  in  tliat  case  could  not  have  been  such  as  M.  Guirot 
describes.  We  need  hardly  add  that,  in  such  of  the  old  autho- 
rities as  we  are  actjuainted  with,  there  is  no  mention  of  Val 
Richer. 

In  connezinn  with  the  name  of  liecket,  we  may  notice  a  theory 
which  has  lately  been  put  forth  by  the  Rev.  W.  VV.  Shirley,  a 
gentleman  who  has  carefully  studle*!  the  Becket  documents,  and 
of  whose  abilities  ami  knowlcdi^e  we  wish  to  S|wak  with  the  moat 
sincere  respect.  Mr.  Shirley,  iii  a  very  valuable  paper  *<)n  some 
Questions  ccmp(K-teil  with  theChancellorshipof  &*cket,'{  supposes 
that  the  office  of  Chancellor  was  raised,  during  Becket's  tenure  of 
it,  from  the  sixth  to  the  secf)nd  place  amonfr  the  jifreat  offices 
umler  the  Crown  ;  nnd  he  i^rouiiils  this  opinion  chiefly  on  the 
fact  that  i*itz.Steplien,  in  his  account  of  Becket's  Chancellorship, 
savs,  'C-iuio4*Ilarii  Angtix  digiiitas  est,  ut  secundus  a  rege  in 
n^gno  habeatur :' — 

*On  this  pAifwago,'  sayn  Mr.  Shirley,  '  1  would  remark,  first,  that  the 
esftvmom  %vcvnd\is  a  rtge  is  certainly  meant  to  be  truulftted  "  (wcond 
from  the  king."  not  "kocodiI  Io  tlu;  king,"  the  chief  jasticiur  boiugthe 
nnc  mbject  of  hi^ht^  nuik.' 

To  OS  it  seems  that  this  translation  is  certainly  wrong-.     In  classical 

*  Tlus  ttalement  it  tniule  bv  Ucau   Milmaa,  HisL  of  Lauo  Cbiiilianity,  ii). 
412,  (J.  t,  but  wiiliont  riBtniiig  Vi  Authority. 
t  ScrtMom  Kerum  ltruiurici,Mtituii>,  iii.  353. 
;  PubTtshediD  ihe'Uxrord  Hiitoncal  Socwl}'s  Rtqxnls,'  L8S1. 

Latin, 


Lives  ijfthe  Archtnthoja  0j  Canterbury. 

LAtin,  *  sccuDclus  a  rege '  means  '  next  to  the  king,'  as  will  ap^iear 
from  the  refprencei  under  the  woixl  Sccumlus  in  the  commuD  tlic- 
tioDaries.*  The  saino  Is  the  sense  in  the  Latin  of  the  V'ui|ntt<j  iiible, 
which  might  uaturallv  be  exjx'cti'd  to  govern  tlic  media?val  usage  ;\ 
and  that   suc-li  was  the   case,  may  appear   fnim  a  {Kissage  of  the 
chronirlur   Kkkehard,  who  describes  Albert,  alterwards   Ardn 
bishop  of  Mciitx,  as  having  been,  while  (niancollor  to  Homy  V. 
of  Germany,  '  per  omnia  wcundus  a  re{;e.'  J     We  have,  ihere- 
fore,  no  doubt  as  to  the  translation  of  thr  words.      Rut,  supposing 
this  settled,  wliat  do  Uipy  mean?      The  Cliaiicellor  was   eertajnij 
not  next   to   till-    King   in   dignity,   fur  between    them   were   thoj 
IVinces  of  the  Hlood,  the  rriniute,  and  at  lea»t  one  great  ofBcer, 
the  Justiciar.     Nay;  since  FitzStephen's  words  do  not  bear  the 
sense   which  Mr.  Shirley   puts  oti   them,  and  so  fix   the  Cbao- 
oellur's  place  as  second  aniuug  th«r  great  officers,  it  is  not  ccTlAin 
that  in  Becket's  time  he   stoi»d  so   high-      *llie  only  solution  that 
occurs  to   us  is  to  be  got   partly  by  the  help  of  die  [nssago  in 
Ekkcbard,  and  partly  by  a  consideration  of  the  wonls  *  in  refftoS 
The  nearness  to  the  King  which   Ekkchard  speaks  of  was  evi- 
dently not  a  matter  of  precedence,  but  of  intimacy  ;  and  Fitt- 
Stepbcn    seems    to    use    the   words  *  in  regno,*   nut   as   meaning^H 
'within  tlie  rcAlm,*  but  with  the  intention  of  confining  his  viev^^ 
to  the  constitution  or  government  of  the  kingdom.     And  thus, 
although   princes,  archbishops,  and  not  only  the  justiciary,  but 
other  great  officers,  may  have  been  higher  in  dignity  than  ^e 
Chancellor — although    favourites    may,    in    fact,    have    possessed 
the  King's  ear  to  a  greater  degree  than  he^ — Uic  Cliancellor  may 
still  have  bttin  'sccumlus  a  rcge  in  regno,*  as  lieing  officially  the 
Sovereign's  most  conffdcntial  a/Iviser.     Or  whatever  the  chao- 
cellor's  place  may  have  Ixvn  in  order  of  precedence,  KitzstepbcD 
may  have  meant,  by  styling  him  *sccund«s  a  rcge  in  regno*', 
that  he   hud    tlie   chief  shart!   in  the  government — as  (to   take 
much  stronger  instance)  the  First  L«)rd   of  the  Treasury  !s  nc 
usually  Prime  Minister,  alttiough  his  office  confers  no  precodci 
on   him,  and  iiis  rank   may    be  no  higher  than  that   of  Priry' 
Councillor.      Into  the  ([urstlnn   at  what  time  the  Chancellor 
raised   from    llie    sixth    to   the    second    jilai^e,    vre    do    not    bent 
undertake  to  enter.§  Than 

*  Thos  Hirttu*  ISTS,  Ihst  in  C'sppadocia  tb«  priest  of  Dslloaa  was  *  un)«ria  at 
potODtia  secumlnA  n  rvre.'    Vh  K«Ilfi  Alexamlr.,  66. 

t  t^. '  Et  quoniudo  Manloclueui  jH<Uici  geucris  KCtuKlos  s  rcgt  Amocto  foertl.' 
EMlhtr.  X.  3. 

t  Ekkfli.,  Chrwi..  a.u.  1112  Cm  Mime.  cliv.  1024).  The  polnte  of  likeam 
iMtvMD  ih«  hiitorjr  of  Bnlcct  and  that  of  AlScrt— who,  fn>iu  Itfiilw  b««n  in  sati* 
bitnircLival  chancellor.  Wcame  a  \vtj  liitnirchicsl  pnmate,  and  th«  bitterest 
opponent  of  thi-  Sovereign  to  whom  lie  ovtnl  h'n  See — htiv>>  Iwra  oftra  ranarked. 

\  Mr.  Shirli^5  la  Inollncd  to  doaht  whether  Beckct  was  Hmry's  Snt  cbaaoettor, 

OB 


>oeD 
te  a^l 

coooH 

"3 


Lica  oftfie  Arckbhhops  of  Caraerbury. 


107 


ThiTe  is  not  much  of  interest  in  the  life  of  Beckrt's  respectable; 
sncceasorf  Klclinrd.  The  next  archbishop,  Baldwin,  ihctl  as  a 
cnuader  at  Acre,  afwr  having  ilistin^ishfMl  himself  chiefly  by  a. 
qoairel  with  the  monks  of  bis  cathedral,  whom  be  attempted  to 
aupcrandp  in  their  privilc^s  ns  to  the  election  of  archbishops  by 
trmisferrin;;  these  tn  an  iiitmded  rolleg»?  of  secular  ranons.  \Vc 
need  not  say  tliat  lie  Ik  well  abused  by  the  mnimstir  u'riters ;  and 
his  successor,  HuU-rt  Waller,  although  he  accummodatMl  matters 
with  the  monks  of  the  cathedral,  and  therefore  receives  something' 
like  fair  trratment  from  their  chronicler,  Oervasc,  isenielly  nbused. 
by  Thorn,  the  chronicler  of  tlie  rival  M<inasterv  "f  St.  Aujfustine.* 
Habert  Walter  was  a  man  of  n*markalile  ability  ia  m:u>y  ways 
— not,  perhaps,  a  great  divine,  hut  eminent  as  a  military  leader, 
both  in  Palestine  and  at  home,  as  a  judg;p,  and  as  a  statesman.! 

Last  of  the  primates  includetl  in  these  volumes  is  Stephen 
L&n^ton — a  man  memomble  for  his  stni^le  ^^iust  King  John, 
in  t)ehalf  of  the  Pope's  usurpation  of  the  power  to  bestow  the 
see  of  Canterbury,  and  afterwards  for  the  part  which  he  took  in 
wriniriiifr  from  John,  in  opposition  to  the  Papal  inilueoce,  the 
TfroBTiition  of  Enjjlisb  libertit-s  by  the  Great  Charier.  In  the 
first  uf  these  contests  Dean  Ilixtk  is  affainst  Langton  ;  in  tjie 
second,  he  is  with  liim.  At  pp.  69't~6,  he  even  suggests  such 
ar^ments  as  can  be  ofTere*!  in  mitigation  of  John's  abject 
sabmission  to  the  Pope  ;  X  but  we  must  think  that  this  is  some- 
what 


m  tbe  cratUMl  that  &  docBtarnt  in  Kjrmfr  U  sUested  by  '  N.  Kpo.  EJr,  et  Catwel- 
Isria.'  Mr.  Po4«  had  «nppAiied  ct  to  bi^  n  ini»t»ko  fftr  T.,  tho  iniiiaf  nf  Beclwi*! 
Chrislisn  imne.itDd  tbrrufore  had  rnolvi-d  tbe  H|tiiaturv  itiNt  twii,  but  Mr. Shirley 
is  Dut  caUKSod  iriib  tbii;.  Tbi're  il^  bowi^vcr.  in  tliv  '  Anglin  Sun.'  k  coutvta- 
pontnr  Life  of  Nigel,  Risliop  of  Elj.  in  which  his  politicnl  drcnnisianci-ii  it  th« 
MC«uion  of  II«nrv  arc  to  fiilly  tpuki::i  of  i.  K37),  Uial  liii  chaiictdlorsliip  eonld 
Dal  h*y«  ba-Mit  ntimilictnl  if  In-  had  i-vi-rlKld  tfai-  uffin- :  niiit  >ll  olhrr  i;vidi!i)ei!  tends 
W  ahoi*  ttiai  IVckct  wu  nppoinled  ChuMwUor  in  (hr  vvrj  W)(Snaii>g  of  Uil-  reigD. 
W«  havt.  t(n;refQre,  la-  doulil  that  Mr.  Fo**'*  conjecture  i*  right, 

'./.  *Vir  juris  ignarna,  ot.  <|a»d  pndet  dleerc.  laicns  cl  ilttteraTus.'  Ap. 
TVy^dcn,  X.  J=<Trip«>re«,  wjl.  1841. 
pt  llut-f^n  W&ltvr  waj.  t<cyMid  all  doubt,  brother  of  Tbcobald  Walter,  who  e«i- 
Urd  ti)  Irrliimt.and  foiindMl  the  Onnaoiie  fumitv.  Tbe  conarxtoti  of  thai  family 
ih  Beck(>t  ii  lira  disiiiiclly  nude  nut.  We  naitlon  the  aiatttrr  chiH!y  in  urdtT  to 
pomt  eat  that  Cane  ircmt  lo  \m  mistskeQ  in  sapposing  'Thotnai;  FitzTheobald. 
of  UcUm.*  who  if  saiit  to  tisvi;  n»rn4Nl  Bn^urt's  liiitcr,  to  have  laketi  hii  dfAitfoa- 
Uon  fton  s  diHlriel  called  Ilvilly,  in  Tippcrary.  (Prcf.  to  '  Lifo  of  the  Duke  uf 
Omnndr,*  xii.)  Por  thtrc  U  la  K«nt  an  an«iral  chopelry  named  llrll<«,  aaw 
oiiitvd  to  tb*  parich  uf  Dar«iith  ;  aud  bulb  Dsrvnth  and  HtUw  weft  tbe  property  of 
tbe  See  of  Caati^rKiry,  until  t-xdiun^i^  by  IK-rtivrl  Widu-f  with  Uw  raoou  of 
llocbcster  for  I^mltetfi.     Tla-iloTd  '  Ki-nt,'  i.  247.-i5l  ;  '  Rymtr,'  new  ed,,  i.  64. 

£  At  p.  ftSC  the  Uvan  (avs  that  '  tlie  preccdcul  had  beeu  mi  by  tbe  Emperor  of 
Ovmiaiiy,  Loibair  II.,  iu  11.1.1,'  mid  ciles  xhtt  story  uf  u  pielnre  which  WpWUDCsd 
l^>thair  as  doiug  homage  \o  th«  I'apc,  and  bore  the  InncnptioD— 
'  \Ux  Tirnlt  ante  fores,  juraoK  pnu*  urbis  hoDores 
Post,  homo  fit  papw.  tumit  quo  daatc  corvnam.' 

Bsl. 


108 


Lives  i»f  tli&  Arcklnsbops  of  CatUerbury. 


th 


wliat  tncvmsistent  with  the  dnrtrinps  clscwliPre  propoumlpd  as 
tlte  (lepeiulenre  ni  the   Kn^lisli   Cniurch  on  the  Crown,  notl  \ 
iiideppndcncc  «f  Uip  Papacy. 

Lutigton  bad  in  his  earlier  years   been  eminent  as  a  teacher 
Paris,  and    he  was  n  vohiminnus  author — bis  chief  woHt  beii 
a  Commentary  un  a  hu-ge   pitrtioii  (if  not  thf-    wliole)  of  tlie  O 
Tcstanirnl.      Dean  Hook  jjives  reftrrciices  lo  librartL-s  whci-e  ao 
of  bis   writing  are  still    prc&er\'ed  ;  and    we  mav  add   that 
Libruiy  trl  Canterbury  Cathedral  contains  his  *  Morals  '  on  Josh 
Judp:es,  Kutli,  Samuel,  Kings,  Tobit,   tisthcr,  Kz^^  Macca 
isaiah,  Jeremiah,  lizekicl,  and  the  lesser  pnjphets."     Lan^ 
works,  huwfVLT,  have  never  found  an  rxlitor,  and  u*e  are  not  aw 
tlint  an%'  living  man  has  taken  the  trouble  tn  ascertain  whether 
('ommenTariescUfler  in  any  apprp<ial>le  dep^ree  from  ine<li»val  co: 
mcntaries  in  general.     The  title,  'Moralia  '(borrowed  from  G 
gory  the  Gieat,  who  g^ive  this  name  to  his  Commentary  on  Jo 
seems  to  promise  one  of  those  vexatious  and  interminable  expi 
tions  in  which  the  writer  uses  Scripture  as  a  peg  lo  hang 
fancies  on.  witltout  ap{>arently  baring  any  idea  that  the  sarre 
writers  may  probably  have  had  a  meaning  of  theirown.     Steph 
Laiigton  dipd    in   1^28,  having-  supcrintrnded    the  tianslntion 
IJpcket's  relies  into  a  ma^nifitTnt  sitrinf,  and  having  mrounig' 
tlie  introduction  into   l*!ngland  of  the  Mendicant  orders,  whi 
were  to  pLay  so  large  a  part   in    the  later   history  of  the  mifki 
ages,  as  the  busiest  agents  and   the  surest  instruments  of  t 
Papacy.     The  policy  of  Gregory  Vil.    ha<l   achieve<l  its  higbi 
triumphs  under  Liutgton's  contemporary.  Innocent    III.      But 
attrmpting  to   carry  it  to«>  far,  tlwr  successors  of  Innocmt   rxci 
a  formidable  spirit  of  opposition  ;  and  Dean  Hook's  next  vola 
is  Ut  show  the  operation  of  i]iis  spirit  during  '  the   period 
reaction  '  until  t)ic  Reformation. 

In  taking  leave  of  the  author  for  the   present,  we  must  aj 
express  our    high   sense  of  tlu-  value  of  bis  hook.     We   do 
think  widi  hitn  in  everything,  and    it  would  lie  easy  to  jMnnt 
such  misfcikcs  as  almost  every  one  who  comes  later  can  usuall 


note  in  the  work  ot  those  who  have  gone  before  him.t 


But 
faeaitil 


Bui,  beude*  lliat '  Fnnlrrick  I)KrLiaraKE&  denied  ihc  le^lily  of  ibc  set  of  hU  \a 
dcn-Mor,'   it   would  seem   llint  the   picture  and  the   motto   misrcpresenltd   \ 
hgniJi^,  irhicb  WM  rvilly  dope  for  the  CountrM  BlaiiWa'*  inhtTiinnw  ilwia 
Culbair  uuder  llie  Roinaii  »ec>,  u  if  it  bad  brtm  Anuv  for  Ihi-  itnpcrul  Cruirt^  i. 


■  de 

I  t 

■  Gim-kTil..  ii.  SI. 

■  *  Cstaloguc.  by  th*  K*r.  H.  J.  Todd  (afttTwards  Archdcscoo  of  CicTrUed), 

■  Lnnd.  isoa.  p.  111. 

H  t  Wr  oy^fil,  p«rhapti,  tn  in«^tu>n  that  the  I>trin  in  hit  prefiioc  ackaowledgct 

^^^  the  aMtKtni->.vo1'ilit.-  Itrv.  W.S<nbb«,«utborof  avery  lueAil  li»t  of  KugtUblnsbopo, 

^^H  cotitlitd  *K«gistnitn  Sucr  im  An^ciicauniu.*     Altbougfa  Ihb  geiiUi-num  is  anrortu- 


DSU 


Livet  of  the  Archbislurpt  of  Canterbury. 


109 


li«trtil_v  like  Ills  gmeral  spirit,  and  wf>  are  sure  that  Deati  Hook 
\iM  bestowed  on  his  Uisk  much  lovini;  Inbour,  with  nn  earnest 
deiiro  to  find  out  the  truth,  both  as  to  facts  and  as  to  opinions. 
To  the  idler  reaclcr,  it  will  convev  murh  inlonuation  in  a  vaxy 
pira&ant  form  ;  to  the  student  who  is  acquainted  with  severer 
works,  of  B  wider  rBiif^,  it  will  sivc  the  means  of  fdlin;;  up  the 
outlines  of  Church-history  with  life  atitl  i-olour.  It  is  well  for  us  all 
t»i  know  something  about  thf  prelates  whose  history  Dr.  Hook 
has  written ;  and  for  tnauy  of  us  it  is  no  sraall  matter  to  knov 
wluit  50  cniiwnt  a  man  as  Dr.  HiH>k  tliinks  of  them.  In  the 
loijjt  line  of  Augustine  and  his  eighty-uine  sucreswirs,  tliere 
have  been  men  of  verv'  various  qualities  ;  some  of  tliciii  noted 
as  scholars,  as  theologians,  or  as  statesmen ;  while  manv,  who 
cannot  be  destribed  as  in  any  way  distinguished,  have  filled  the 
Primacy  with  credit  to  themselves  and  with  advimloge  to  the 
Church.  There  have  been  archbishops  saintly  ami  of  no  remark- 
able Muictity,  proud  and  humble,  rigid  ami  pliable,  wholly  hier- 
archical and  almost  wholly  secular.  And  it  can  certainly  not 
be  said  tliai  the  hitrheat  qualities  have  always  secured  the  most 
successful  administration  of  the  office.  Under  suth  prinres  as 
William  Knfus  and  his  hrolher,  Jjinfmnc  could  no  doubt  have 
coDlrir«?<l  to  acquit  himself  of  his  duties  at  once  towards  the 
Church  and  towards  the  Crown  Iffitti>r  than  the  more  jirofoundly 
^jMuned  and  thoughtful  An«elm  ;  and  in  later  times.  Laud — able, 
^BBKrnc*),  munificent,  and  conscientious  as  he  was — was  yet  so  far 
wanting  in  practical  wiBiIum  thai  he  bore  a  chief  part  in  piu- 
voking  the  tem[M)rarv  ruin  of  the  Monarchy  and  of  the  national 
Church.  In  uiauv  casL-s,  an  archbishop  whose  chief  merit  con- 
siftt«d  in  nothing  more  than  a  stately  and  dignified  bearing,  has 
scrred  the  Church  mort!  cfKpclually  (lian  itcoulil  have  bi*en  served 
in  the  circumstnnres  of  his  time  by  a  man  combining  the  highest 
gifts  of  elmiuence,  learning,  ami  piety.  As  circumstances  vary, 
so  too  fill  the  qualities  whiih  arc  rei|uired  To  deal  with  them; 
aud  that  which,  in  one  acre,  is  the  most  valuable  of  qualifi- 
cations, mav  be  quite  unsuitetl  for  another,  ^'t.■t,  however  this 
mar  bo,  it  may  be  cerluiidy  laid  down  that  in  such  a  position  as 
the  Primacy  iif  Englani),  the  man  ought  always  to  hold  himself 
sulmrtlinate  tu  his  office — that  solid  rather  than  dazzling  qualities 
are  rrquiretl,  rmy.  that  brilliancy  of  any  kind  is  even  dangerous— 
tint  any  fondness  for  jiersonal  disjdny  (under  whatever  name  it 

nate  \a  bein^  the  tubjci-t  tit  rtrlaiu  wrakty  calo$:ks  wfakh  would  do(  be  too  litUe 
far  au  Cnhcr  or  n  Mabilloii,  v^-  heliere  turn  to  be  n  r»))r  trnrurd  qmI  coe- 
ieiratiMia  ntnlcal,  IVom  whom  much  ^ood  tenriu  may  be  <xpe<h-d. 

may 


Lives  Iff  the  Arcfihishiij}s  of  Caaterhury. 

may  be  vcilcU)  cannot  tail  to  degrade  tlic  mnn  and  to  dishonour 
faia  function. 

'  Among  the  archbinliops,'  srjb  Doou  Hook,  *  tibere  ai«  a  few  emi- 
nent mlora  distingniidiod  as  mnch  for  thoir  tranacendent  abilittea  ai 
for  their  «xaItoct  Htatioo  in  socie^  ;  bat  as  a  general  mlo  the/  have 
not  boen  mon  of  tlie  bi|^uat  oIaaa  of  miiicl.  In  all  ngoa  the  teadenqr 
has  vtiry  pr<>|>orly  betiu,  whtethur  by  elecUou  ur  by  uomination,  to  ftp- 
point  "  »ifc  xaaa ;''  and  a&  guaiaa  is  genciuily  mnoTotiug  and  ofkn 
euoentric,  tlto  eafu  men  arc  thoso  who,  vith  oertiuu  hig]i  qnalificatiuus, 
do  Dot  riw)  mucb  abuvo  tbo  tutellectual  aTcmgo  of  tbeir  ct.)uU.'m])o< 
lurics.  They  ore  prnctioal  muu  mtbur  thiin  philtwophcnf  aud  tht-orists; 
and  Uiuir  iinpahw  Is  not  to  perfccUou  but  ^uie/«  non  m-Jtere.  From 
IhtB  Tcry  circiUDStanwi  th«ir  history  in  tbo  more  inetnirtive,  and,  if 
few  among  tho  archbishops  hnvc  Icfl  th^  inipreaa  of  tbeir  luind  upon 
the  age  in  which  they  lived,  we  may  in  their  biography  rettd  the  clia- 
raoler  of  the  timet)  which  Ihuy  fairly  rvipreKont.  In  a  laiasioDBry  age 
we  find  them  zoalnns  bnt  not  cnthnsiastie ;  on  the  revival  of  learning, 
whether  in  Auglo-ijaiontimesor  in  the  fifteenth  oentory,  they  were  men 
of  learning,  although  only  a  few  havu  been  diKtiuguiehud  an  authora. 
When  tho  iniad  of  the  laity  van  devoted  to  tho  cnnip  or  the  chase,  and 
prelates  were  called  to  the  administration  of  public  affaiiv,  they  dis- 
played the  ordiiuiry  tact  and  diplomatic  skiU  of  profo^ioual  tttates- 
mDO,  and  the  nu<>oaBary  acuzaen  of  judgoH;  at  the  Kef(irni»ttoti,  inHtmd 
of  being  loaders,  they  were  the  cautious  followcre  of  bolder  spirits; 
at  tbo  cpiHih  of  Ao  Rerolutioti  tlicy  wuro  luiti-iTouobitcH  ratht<r  than 
WhigK  ;  in  a  latitndinnrian  age  they  hnre  been,  if  feeble  a»  governors, 
bright  examples  of  C'hristian  moduraticm  and  charity.' — (pp.  4(J-41.) 


I 


Art.  IV.— 1.  RegxtlatioRS for  the  Vohnteer  Forty,  1861. 

2,  Constitution  rf  Ptiismnce  Milifat'tf  de  hi  Franet  et  df  tAnylc 
terre.  LieuL-CoL  Martin,  3""'^  Imp.  Lancicrs.  Sp^taieur 
Miiitaire.     IfiBl. 

3.  The  Three  Panics.     Rirlinrd  Cobden,  Esq.,  M.P.      1862. 

FOUK  years  ago  we  were  defcnreleu  enough  to  satisfy  ouf 
worst  rncmics,  and  to  alarni  our  most  ronfidpnt  friends, 
always  excepting  the  author  of  'The  Three  Panics,'  who  de»er\'e* 
in  spite  of  bis  good  iiitfiitioiis  to  bu  lOassetl  with  tlie  former  rather 
than  with  the  latter.  W'c  were  quite  unprejxtred  to  meet  any 
great  Btlack  which  might  bare  been  made  upon  us  an  a  auddea 
outbrpak  of  war,  while  our  tempting  condition  of  initccurity  rco- 
dcrei]  Ufi  thr  more  liable  both  to  l>c  involved  in  war,  and  to  be 
the  object  of  such  an  attuck.  Of  our  long  const-line,  uo  'one 
lusailable  part  was  safe  during  a  temporary  absencv  uf  our  fleet. 
Our  mercantile  ports  were  at  the  mercy  of  any  frigate  that  might 

elude 


The  Voiunieerx  ami  National  Defence. 


Ill 


elude  our  cniisfTS.  Our  ^tni  dockjarda  and  arsenals  ircrc  mnre 
or  l«!ss  u|M>n  to  bomluinlint'iit  liy  st^a,  as  well  oa  to  the  more  remote 
contiti^fncy  of  an  assault  b^  land.  Our  inetmpiilU  itself  was 
abamefully  expoacd  to  nn  enemy,  if  onvv.  iIisnn(Rirkf>i1.  Our 
re^lar  anny  of  60,000  men,  nhich  had  many  other  plni^a  of 
vitnl  importance  to  protect,  wns  insufficient  in  atunbers  for  ita 
defence  alone;  and  even  when  we  nddcd  to  that  army  100/.K)0 
imperfectly  trained,  or  untrained,  militia,  with  14,000  pc^nsi'mers, 
and  14.00()  yeomanry,  we  were  unable  to  make  up  the  number 
of  sK)0,0'^K)  which  we  mipht  have  had  to  encounter  on  our  own 
soiL  We  felt  our  weakness,  and  our  neighbours  saw  it  We 
weTP  pmperly  subject  to  anxieties  at  home,  and  naturally  so  to 
tbrpats  fmm  nhniad,  which  it  is  easy  now  to  laugh  at  or  to  ignore. 
Mr.  (-'hIhIi-b  wimhl  fain  pcrsiiadfi  us  that  the  sensations  of  inse- 
curity which  we  have  at  times  experionred,  and  which  he  has 
divided  into  three  special  periods  of  panic,  were  altogether  un- 
called for ;  and  that  hecanse  we  did  not  actually  encounter 
«ride-sprea<)  desolation  or  sudden  deslrurtirm  at  the  teriniiiation 
of  any  of  these  peritids,  we  had  not  after  all  any  ranee  for  alarm. 
On  the  same  principle  the  careful  man  wliu  insures  Ills  sliiji,  bis 
house,  or  his  life,  is  a  reckless  spemlthrift  as  long  as  his  mer- 
chaiMlixe  is  safe,  his  house  unhtimt,  or  his  health  good. 
Mr.  Colnlen  has  ritlier  not  yet  met  witii,  or  not  appreciated,  the 
old  French  proverb, — 

'  S'il  fait  beau,  prenda  ton  numtOBU ; 
Quaud  il  pluut,  fius  oe  que  tu  toux.' 

Nothing  would  have  inducctl  him  to  believe  beforehand,  that  the 
States  c^  North  America  would,  in  the  year  18C2,  U'  overrun  by 
a  million  of  soldiers  and  overwhelmed  by  a  hojieless  debt.  If  a 
more  far-seeing  Government  had,  bv  the  adoption  of  wise  mea- 
sates,  by  extensive  |>reparations,  and  at  an  apparently  extravagant 
cost,  prevented  civil  war  from  breaking  out  among  those  States, 
he  might  easily  prove  now  by  similar  rt-itsoning  that  its  statesmen 
had  done  their  best  to  bring  ruin  upon  that  united  nation,  and  to 
cmsure  the  bn^-up  of  its  pailern  constitution. 

We  knew,  then, — for  it  had  become  a  bye-word  with  us, — that 
Btcam  faad*partially  bridged  the  Channel ;  bnt  wo  continued,  witli 
intermittent  feelings  of  uneasiness,  to  rely  principally  u]>on  nn%-nl 
ptDtectinii  until  we  realised  the  fact  that  a  gallant  and  in]|H!rial 
ally  was  outstripping  us  in  the  proc-ess  of  converting  a  sailing 
into  a  steam  fleet.  'Iliis  touched  us  uu  uur  mtrat  seitsitive  point. 
The  startling  announcement  rang  through  the  land,  that  our  first, 
our  only  prepBrL*d  line  of  defence  was  endangered.  Hctrcnch- 
ment  and  refonn  ceased  thenceforth  to  be  popular.     Savings  were 

not 


^ 


* 


112  77(f  VoluiUeen  anil  National  Defence. 

not  to  be  weighed  against  security,  nor  the  ballot  Bgainst  bul 
walks.  Batteries  began  to  make  their  appearance  oii  tl»e  coasts ; 
a  llo^al  Cumiiiission  was  appointett  (on  the  lOtli  August,  1859) 
to  inquire  into  the  *  Present  state,  conditinn,  niiil  sufficiency  of 
the  For tificat tuns  existing  for  llie  Defence  of  the  United 
Kiopdum  ;'  and  the  judgment  of  the  nation  has  confirmed  the 
obvious  general  conclusions  which  were  containwl  in  the  Report 
of  that  Commission,  dated  Fehruar>',  I860 — tlint  (.•ertain  vital 
points  and  im|>ortant  places  ought  to  Ite  renderetl  serurp  against 
any  attack  that  could  be  made  agairiRt  them  both  by  sea  and 
land— that  they  shouUl  be  surrounded  by  land-forts  suBiciently 
distant  to  secure  them  from  the  effects  of  rifled  artillery,  and 
prutect'i'd  by-  M-a-forts  to  act  incombinatitm  witli  filiating  bntterics, 
and  ronipty  with  all  the  f-otiditioiis  nf  iniKlern  warfare. 

But  while  it  was  seen  thiil  we  WiUitttd  fortifications  much,  it 
was  felt  also  that  we  wanted  soldiers  more.  It  was  not  only  that 
our  troojM  were  insufficient  to  protect  the  public  arsenals  and 
dockyards  without  the  addition  of  furtifications ;  but  we  could 
not  even  sjiare  from  our  fickUAHCe  llie  more  limited  number  that 
would  be  re(]uired  for  their  defence  wiUi  the  aid  of  permanent 
works.  The  first  construction  of  such  works  involved  a  heavy 
outlay,  and  the  cost  of  maintaining  them  would  be  considerable  ; 
but  the  augmentation  of  tlie  regular  army  to  anything  like  the 
numbers  that  were  necessary  to  the  security  of  the  country  was  ^h 
out  of  the  question.  ^| 

Tlie  difEeuUy  was  apparent,  ami  our  countrymen  proceeded  to    ^\ 
act  upon  the  same  principle  in  military  aflairs.  that  they  are  ac- 
customed  to  apply  to   the  concerns  of  ciril    life.     Thfy  hpl|>pd 
themselves.     Tney  set  to  work  to  provide  for  their  own  dpfi-nce    ^j 
in  the   same  spirit    in   which    they    have   established    voluntary  ^H 
institutions  of  a  Hterarv',  scientifir,  artistic,  and  charitable  nature  ^^ 
— for  their  aged  and  their  young,  their  rich  antl  their  poor,  their 
criminals  and   tlieir  unfortunates.       Uniforms   npprnreil   in   the 
towns,  bugles  res<iundcd    througli  llie  villages,      Pi-ers  and    ple- 
beians put  their  heads  together  in  ctmnri!,  and  their  shoulders  in 
the  field.     The  heal  men  in  the  country  devoted  to  the  work 
wilting  labour  and  valuable  time.     Those  who  were  richer  aided 
those  who  were  jHMirer,  and  those  who  could  not  give  leisure  or 
physical  strength,  sent  in  their  subscriiitinns.     Balls  and  bazaars 
5weIIe<l  the  resources.      TIic  Government  ac<:epted  the  movement ;  ^M 
the  Act  44  Geo.  III.,  c.  54,  was  revived ;  and  a  Volunteer  Army  ^| 
has  been  formed,  which  consisted  in  rounil  numbers  on  the  Ist 
August,  1861.  of  23,170  Artillery,  2750  Kngincers,  600  Light 
Horse,  670  Mounted  Rifles,  and  133,^*00  Rifles,  making  a  grand 
total  of  upwards  of  161,000  men.     Since  that  date,  tlie  Artillery 

have 


Tli€  VoJtxnicert  ami  National  Defence. 


113 


liave  IracreaseJ  3  per  cent.,  the  Enginei?i-s  5  per  firnt.,  tlic  Lijrtit 
Horse  11  per  cent.,  and  tlte  Rifles  a  quarter  per  cent,  while  tlu; 
mDuntL'd  Rifles  have  decreased  near!)-  3  jwr  cent.  The  total 
cnrollwl  strpnjfth  up  to  the  Ist  April  ln«t  wiis  1)J3,740  officer* 
and  men,  in  1351  coips,  comprising  2200  troops,  Uiltcrics,  or 
companies.  Of  thesr  only  ont^-cjghth  were  non-effbetives ;  aud 
out  i)f  the  i-emaininj^  14<),l)00,  iihout  80,000  are  highly  efficient. 
The  cfjst  of  this  army,  as  provided  in  the  Estimates  for  the 
present  year,  is  123,000/.,  divided  into  6000/.  for  general  Staff; 
07,000/.  for  Adjutants  and  expensra  of  Officers  temporarily 
employed  ;    anil  r>0,000/.  for  Jnstrurtirin. 

The  estahlisbment  of  a  \'oluiiteer  force,  in  one  form  or  aiuUhrr, 
had  been  desired  for  many  years  by  civilians  as  well  as  by  military 
men ;  and  imrtially  sureessful  attempts  had  previously  been 
mwlr*  to  form  isolated  ciirps  in  different  parts  of  the  country.  A 
great  step  was  gained  when  the  rifle  came  into  general  usi>  in 
an  improved  form  and  at  a  low  prict*.  It  was  at  once  remem- 
bered that  the  great  success  of  British  soldiers  in  former  centuries 
wu  principally  dac  to  tlieir  unrivalled  skill  in  the  use  of  the 
bow,  and  it  was  foreseen  tliat  similar  advantages  might  be  gained 
by  troitung  the  present  generation  to  shoot  with  the  rifle.  A 
natuml  wish  gainetl  ground  to  erect  practice-butts,  and  to  intro- 
duce ritlc>shoottng,  like  archery  of  old,  as  a  national  pa«time. 
It  was  hoped  that  the  interest  thus  excited  would  aid  in  the 
formation  of  corps,  and  contribute  to  a  strong  defensive  move- 
ment ;  Init  il  was  not  foreseen,  nor  could  any  one  have  imagined, 
ihnt  so  large  a  pro[>ortion  of  the  population  would  in  a  titnc  of 
pe«ce  convert  themselves  into  drilleJ  and  discipline<l  soldiers — 
that  they  would  for  a  time  abstain  altogether,  .is  so  many  have 
done,  from  the  more  interesting-  portions  of  their  military  duties, 
and  would,  month  after  montli,  go  patiently  through  die  i-om- 
pomtive  druilgery  of  drill,  in  spite  of  many  obstacles,  until  lltpy 
bail  attained  to  so  hi^h  a  dcgroe  of  rfliciency.  'Ibis  was  a 
Strong  test  of  the  carnesmcss  of  the  movement ;  and  the  admirable 
vay  io  which  it  lias  been  undergone  furnishes  proof  of  no 
amoant  of  patriotic  xeal  wbiclt  Mr.  Cobden  will  find  it  difficult 
to  qupncli,  and  M.  Martin  to  disrredit 

Herein  lies  the  great  diRereuce  between  the  Volunteen^  of  the 
jinrsRut  day  and  their  predecessor*  of  1588  and  1803.  The 
former  are  assisting,  while  there  is  yet  time,  to  place  the  country 
in  security,  in  order  to  prevent  the  idea  of  a  hostile  invasion 
from  being  seriously  entertained  ;  the  latter  assembled  to  oppose 
expeditions  of  great  magnitude,  |>omj>uualy  organised,  and 
avowedly  dcstinni  to  that  object 

Ai  the  commencement  of  the  present  century,  when  Napoleon 

Vol.  112.— TVb.  2W.  I  t\\sttiWxji^ 


jT/ie  {-'olnnteera  (nul  National  Df/enre. 


dittributrtd  150,000  men  in  six  camps  Hong  die  French  (xnsl, 
and  called  them  'the  Arm}-  of  EnglwHl,*  double  tlint  number 
rose  in  arms  on  the  T^inglisli  side  of  tlicr  Channel  to'  uppoK 
tlicm  ;  and  the  gcnciml  fnflitig;  which  fxisU^l  thruughout  OnaU 
Britain  nt  tliat  timr,  ami  which  exists  in  still  greatrr  force  al, 
thi-  prtts4tnt  tiuuf,  cannot  he  more  foEcibly  de«cribetl  than  in  the 
wonis  which  the  late  Sir  Charles  Pasley  used  in  writing,  in 
liiO?J,  on  the  all-exciting  subject  of  tlic  Militar)  Policy  of  the 
country  : — 

'  C-ortuinly,  uf  all  the  ttpectaolcB  proBcutcd  by  hiatory  in  modorn 
nt)ni<,  if  n«  havu  thb  good  fortuno  to  sorviTe  the  pre«ent  contest, 
be  regonlud   witli   ^iritiitcr  ailuiiratioD    }>y  eueevtiding  ages  tham  tbi 
nuble   uflurt  exhibited  in  tbiH  islaod,  when,  at  the  conuDonooment 
the  present  war,  threatonod  with  a  fomiidAbio  invaaion  which  <mt\ 
onlinary  iitilitaiy  etitahUsluueuta  went   iuca|uihlu    uf  reetstuig,  fot 
hiudred  thonaond  BritoDs  Blarted  at  ouce  from  the  various 
tiong  of  civil  life,  and  Toltmtorilj  took  up  oxam  in  duStaxao  of 
conntry.' 

There  is  no  doubt  that  half  a  million  of  men  would  now 
their   services,   and  be  ready  to  do  their  duty  uj   the    best 
their  jiower,  against  any   foe  or  combination  of  foes  that  mi<;h 
threaten  the  country ;   but  it  would  be  many  months  before  anj 
of  them   could    he   made  as   efficient  as  the   1(>0,0()0  who   fi 
our   existing    Volunteer   arm  v.      M.  Martin,   imleef],   cooaiden^ 
that  ire  must  have  sadly  detcTiomted.      After  lirst  alleging  that 
the  VoloDlccr  movement  of  liij(13  was  decried  with  fury  by  the 
majority  of  militarv  men,  and  that  the  larg^  forces  at  the  disposal 
of    the    British    Oovpnimmt    in    that    vear   (whii^h   he   gives  at 
S^sMO  Militia,  34,1(>^  Kescrrc  Corps,' and  474,6ii7  Voluniaan) 
existed  bat  on  paper,  he  adds  that,  instead  of  500,000,  we  cai 
now  only  raise  150,(>00  Volunteers,  in  spite  of  newspaper  excitm 
ment   and    discouru-s   pninouiirf^d    *  apr^s   boire.'       M.    Mutia 
knnws,  on  the  oiu>  hand,  tin-  wi-nk  {xiint  of  tld.s  new  annnmrm 
*  with  which  we  arv  sevkinif  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of  Europe,'  whi 
he  denies  that  Continental  nations  are  as  much  *  stupified '  by  ii 
as  wc  would   wish  to  believe,  and  appears  to  consider  that 
amount  of  time  or  lnly>ur  will  ever  make  the  VoluntiKTs  cificieoi. 
Mr.  Cobden  founds  all  his  fallacies,  on  Uk  other  hand,  upon 
following  statement,  which  was  made  by  tbe  late  Lord  llardit 
to  the  Scbastopul  Committee:    'Give  us  a  good  stout  man, 
let  tu  have  him  for  sixty  days  to  train  him,  and  he  will  be 
good  a  soldier  as  you  can  ha^'c'     This  would  Im?  u  ver\-  ('xtx*- 
ordinar)'   statement  if  it  were   inlendtul   to   be  taken  iu  the  ex- 
tended   sense   in   which    Mr.    Cobden  has    applied    it ;    and    its 
conectness  would  not  be  admitted  by  army  ofUcers  geoenlly. 


I 

icni. 

tb^ 


TUp  ybimUeers  and  Nativnal  Defence* 


115 


tbonjz;fa  men  carefnlly  tnuoetl  during  mch  a  period  might,  nu 
doubt,  do  good  mttIcc  in  some  casei  if  they  were  uiixeU  up 
with  oUlor  gnldierg.  But  Mr.  Cobdcn  procetdB  tu  take  it  for 
g^ntrd  Uiat  gntMl  queers  are  to  he  manuraclurci]  in  a  somewhat 
smilar  |M.'ri<Nl,  that  tli<>  tnoml  qualities  nf(x>ssary  to  othcers  sad 
uic'U  are  tu  be  tuijiarted  to  tbi*tii  in  like  inaiiiipr,  and  that  the 
organisation  of  the  diflerent  departments  is  to  b**  perfecti^d  witli 
eqtnl  facility  ;  and  Ite  cannot  understand  how,  nnder  these 
cimunstAnccs,  any  lutijrrr  timp  can  Ik*  wanted  to  turm  an  army 
than  would  necessarily  elapse  t)rtw«3i  a  cause  of  qaarrel  aiu)  n 
commencement  of  war. 

By  way  of  demonstrating  how  tinreasonable  our  *  panics '  hare 
been,  be  argmrs  that  we  an?  nut  to  consider  the  French  as  'a  !«ct 
of  buccanicTS,'  who  will  *  t}m»w  fifty  tliousaiid  men  airnxs  ihe 
Channel  iu  a  single  night,*  aud  that  in  any  supposition  of  sudden 
attack  we  'overleap  all  reliance  upon  our  diploniary  or  uur 
fleets.'  •Take  away,*  be  says,  *  the  liability  to  surprise,  by 
mdmitting  tlir  necessity'  of  a  pret-ious  ground  of  quarrel  ami  the 
delays  of  n  diplomatir  correspomlcnce,  and  yon  have  time  to 
(sollect  ynnr  flfwt,  and  drill  an  army.* 

We  are  strongly  tempted  to  believe  tliat  be  must  have  deri^vd 
these  ideas  fnmi  a  l*'reuch  friend  and  skilful  statE^sman  ;  but 
whether  tliis  be  the  case  or  no,  we  are  sure  that  the  friend  in 
queuion  will  not  now  become  acquainted  with  them  for  the  first 
lime,  and  will  long  agu  have  (injoyrd  a  laugh  over  thi.-m  at  the 
rxpeniie  (d  his  unsiisjiertini^  Kngh&hin.'Ui. 

Mr.  CJubdtm  alHinls  us  an  amusing  Insight  into  his  commuiuca- 
tions  with  this  friend,  by  reproducing  an  old  story  about  Mr. 
Ewart.  That  sensible  Member  of  Parliament  ma<le  an  applica- 
taou  tu  M.  Ducos,  the  French  Minister  of  Marine,  in  1KS3,  on 
Uie  nil^iM-t  u(  the  French  artnametits,  and  n*(;eivcd  a  reply  which 
•ppeared  in  all  the  newsppfirs :  hut  Mr.  Cobden  now  lays  before 
us  a  drscri]itioti  uf  the  questiuti  ami  a  summai^'  of  the  answer,  at 
they  are  contained  in  a  note  from  M.  Ducos  to  a  colleague. 
Mr.  Cobdrrn  'had  not  the  honour  uf  a  persona!  acquaintance  with 
M.  Ducos,  but  hapiwned  Iu  be  un  terms  of  very  intimate  frieiulship 
with  oue  of  his  colleagues,  with  whom  he  was  in  corrcspoiKlence 
at  the  itime,  and  from  whom  he  received  the  following  note, 
which  had  been  written  to  him  by  the  Minister  of  Marine,  at  the 
mnmeut  of  receiving  the  letter  of  inquiry  from  Mr.  Ewaru'  \Ve 
will  not  qoote  the  whole  of  this  note,  but  we  will  give  tlie  pith 
of  it  in  the  following  extracts : — 

•  Ur.  Ewan  utin  me  in  oonfidenoe,  and  whurnering  in  mj  ear,  if  wo 
aro  Bottutod  by  sentiniCDts  of  rivalry  in  piwhuig  otu  armoaicntB  I  I 
doclaru  thai  I  camiut  naderstand  It.    Wo  have  uot  armed  ooo  veasd, 

i2 


The  Voiuiiteers  and  HationtU  Defence. 

no  Imvc  bot  touchoci  onu  gnn,  vio  have  not  eqiuppod  one  soldier^  uro 
have  not  remiitcd  fine  cnbin-lmy ;  and  tiioy  ask  us  Beriaualy  if  wo 
ait:  a  very  thiuidcrbolt  of  war '/....  Ah  I  my  dear  cnUcaguc,  yon 
Bce  tliftt  rdl  tko  geese  do  not  coiuu  from  ttio  Cnitcd  States  or  Bwiin  in 
thc!  Heine.  You  perwjivc  that  the  (jncstiou  from  London  maikm 
(jaito  morry.' 

Mr.  Cobtlcn  is  innocently  astonished  even  now  in  mrcmbcr- 
ing  tliat  *this  excellent  atU'inpt  to  ul lay  thc  public  excitement 
produced  no  npparpnl  eJTect.'  But,  verily,  good  intention^  and 
an  anxious  desire  fur  th(!  welfare  of  mankind,  do  sometimes  lead 
our  countrymen  to  commii  the  mnst  egregious  absurfJities.  Tlui 
was  worse  than  Mr.  Pease's  visit  to  St.  Petersburg  U)  convert  the 
Emperor  Nicholas  tii  n  peace  policy  during  thc  Russian  war. 
Imaginr  a  l"rem;h  Irgislalur  writing  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  to 
nbtnin  information  as  to  our  uwn  idjjiTU  in  fortifving  Pnrt»- 
moutb.  In  the  mcaii  time,  as  Mr.  Cubden  has  considered,  tlus 
anecdote  to  afTord  good  evidence  in  support  of  his  opinions,  and 
has  thought  it  worthy  to  be  reproduced  in  his  pamphlet,  it  if 
plain  that  he  lias  never  sewn  through  M.  Oucos'  joke.  He  still 
Wlicves,  no  doubt,  that  du*  geese  are  thnsi*  wh(»  would  pn?vriit 
war  by  being  prepared  for  it;  while  the  wise  would,  in  the 
opinion  of  Uic  witty  French  Minister,  as  welt  as  in  bis  own, 
postpone  their  pre{Hiratioas  until  the  danger  is  upon  them,  cackle 
in  tlie  mean  time  in  fanciwl  security,  and  hiss  nt  all  others,  whi>, 
dillertng  fmm  tbeni  in  opinion,  prefer  to  adopt  inrasuirs  Itn* 
ensuring  safety. 

But  the  opinions  in  this  respect  which  Mr.  Cob<ten  puts  for- 
ward, and  the  reasoning  by  which  he  endeavours  to  sup|Mitt 
them,  are  deprived  in  part  of  the  mischievous  tendency  that  they 
would  otherwise  possess  by  being  so  peculiarly  ill-timed.  Our 
gallant  neighbours  on  the  Continent  have  thirty-seven*  iron-plated 
ressels  built  or  buihUng  to  our  twenty-five;  whereas  we  ougbt  (o 
have  fifty-five  to  tlieir  tliirty-seven ;  and  the  alleged  superioritv  of 
some  of  our  ships  <)ocs  notgt^  far  tocom{>eiisate  for  this  iM'ndusde-j 
ficienry  in  numbers.  Being  still  Ijelow  the  standard  at  which  tlicf 
aira,  and  what  tliey  call  their  ordinary  establishment,  they  would 
continue  to  tell  as,  no  doubt,  with  M.  Ducos,  that  ihoy  liave  no: 


*  Thmt  DUnben,  stfonl  wliieh  thrrv  has  been  of  late  some  dUpotp,  are  Am 
made  up;— Th«  French  bnvc  a  irou-pIat4^  frignlt*  nfoal,  am)  10  btiiliUttg;  19 
iron'pUted  Aomiing  l>flttori«s  xflont.  and  S  IjuiMiDH ;  and  tliey  have  couiavnetd  M 
hnild  7  moTv  of  the  litter  at  Uordeaux  and  >'ame£.  Mr.  ('atxlea  deairea  thai ' 
skotiM  aminf 
propoaitiou 
until  we  ha  _ 

advance!  of  themr  We  imagiut:  that  fvi-u   Mr.  Cobdcn  or  ^Ir.  Kwan  woald 


noaiiDg^  onitrnes  anoni,  ana  x  rjuiiiiiiip  ;  ami  luey  nave  couiavneoi  W 
n  of  the  litter  at  Uordeaux  and  >'ame£.     Mr.  ('atxlea  deairea  thaiwa^^^ 
inee  with  them  for  a  mutual  reduulion  of  naval  armamenta.     The  only  ^H 
.  that  we  cotild  now  make  is  that  tbcy  ^oiild  tiupcad  their  opcimtiofiS^I 
ive  causlit  Ihmi  un.  pi»ed  ihvm.  mad  atbuoed  our  Draiicr  txt&iiion  xm  ^1 


until  «e  have  cauglit  ihmi  ugi,  pi»ed  ihvm,  and  stbuovd  our  proper  po&iinm  ii 
adnnctf  of  then.     We  imagiut:  that  fvi-u   Mr.  Cobdcn  or   >Ir.  K 
beiiute  b«f4r«  lh«y  anetnpled  to  iicgociait'  stirh  an  unuiKenMnt. 


ef|uipp«l 


Ute  VoJuttteen  and  Nufional  Defence. 


117 


I 


I 


I 


ippcti  one  little  boat,  or  recniiteil  one  t-abin.  bov.  They  have 
a  rL'irular  nrmy  of  40ii,(WX)  men  under  arms,  besides  a  reserve 
203,000  liublc  til  lie  (Tillc^i  nut  in  two  or  three  weeks,  ami  a 
ualiooal  ^ruard  of  205,Ol~M),  nmkiii^  a  total  nvnitahle  foree  of 
877,000  men  ;  an  a*jain*t  a  regular  army  of  not  much  more  thaa 
90,000  in  this  countrt",  l)cside«,— say  80,000  militia,  and  1GO,000 
Toiuntccrs ;  nnd  nc  cannot  anyhow  make  up  a  total  of  400,000 
men.  A  mon>  reflecting  ami  observant  statesman  wutUrl  have 
abstained,  at  sueh  a  moment  at  anv  rate,  from  rceoin mending  a 
policy  of  procmstlnatlon  in  defending  the  heart  of  a  mighty 
emptrc.  It  is  not  so  long  since  the  army  of  France,  while  »till 
otx  a  peace  footinj;^,  crossed  the  Alps,  with  its  Emperor  at  iu 
heiulf  and  drove  the  Austrians,  who  were  supposed  to  be  fully 
prepared  for  war,  out  of  Lombardy  in  n  few  weeks.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  'Trent,'  too,  would  have  led  only  the  other  day  to 
itamediaie'w.ir  with  the  Northern  States  of  Amerlra,  if  they  had 
pervixttrd  in  their  refusal  to  give  up  the  Southern  Commissioners 
whom  ihry  tiwk  from  that  vessel ;  and  »ve  escaped  from  that  war 
unly  by  siiowing  tliat  we  were  strong'  and  ready.  A  Euru|>ean 
trar  mi^ht  bi-  smldenly  forced  upon  us  in  like  manner  at  any 
future  lime,  without  tiur  obtaining  a  single  month  for  the  com- 
pletion of  our  military  arranjjements ;  and  Mr.  Colxlen  would 
hanlly,  we  suppose,  consider  tbiit  this  was  a  suflifient  interval  for 
full  prepamtion,  though  he  (ioi-s  not  ^ive  us  any  precise  estimate 
of  the  Irujjth  of  time  that  ought  in  his  opinion  to  be  allowed  in 
SDch  cases  for  diplomatic  correspondence.  VVitli  these  recent 
aiaeg  before  us,  we  need  hardly  go  back  for  further  illustration  to 
the  practice  of  the  first  Napoleon,  who,  when  he  <lclermincd 
upon  striking  a  blow,  was  not  usually  in  the  habit,  any  more 
ihan  other  great  coinmunders,  of  giving  any  unnecessary  leisure 
ftir  prrparatinn  to  those  on  whom  it  was  destined  to  take  cdbct. 
But  we  cannot  help  being  reminded  of  tliat  celebrated  occasion 
on  which,  while  preparations  for  embarkation  were  kept  up  ot 
Boulogne  with  redouhlwl  activity,  and  the 'army  of  England  '  was 
hourly  eipecting  to  go  on  Ixmrd,  the  whole  force  was  suddenly 
pnt  in  motion  for  the  Rhine,  and  was  far  advanced  <m  its  march 
towanls  ihnt  river  before  it  was  known  cither  in  London  or  Vienna 
that  the  camp  on  tlie  coast  had  been  broken  up.  A  total  number 
of  271,OllO  men  were  marching  fnim  different  directions  to  effect 
the  i>l>jert  in  viiMv  ;  nnd  judicious  combinations  pnidueetl  the 
Dsual  rrsult.  After  a  ramjuign  of  fifteen  ilays,  and  witli  a  loss 
«f  HOtXl  men,  }<ll,000  of  the  enemy  had  Ireon  taken  or  destroyed. 
■  On  the  subject  of  preparation,  the  few  pages  tlmt  foMnw  the 
B  quotation  aJMivc  ^iven  froui  llic  *  .Mililar\  Policy'  arc  well 
I  worthy 


I 

» 
i 


118 


The  Volunteers  ami  National  Defence* 


wortbv  of  pcmsa),  and  the  folluwing  cjctract  from   tbem  a0<irdf 
nn  appropriate  answer  to  Mr.  CulHit'ii's  nuiin  argumfut: — 

*  Wo  uiuy  fintl  tlint  brnvc,  wull-orgimistxl,  weU-diBcipIinocI  nnnlai^ 
that  strong  Euid  well-pruviiltxl  fortremcs,  cannot  spriug  ap  <dJ  at  onoo 
like  Uw  work  of  magic  hccanse  a  free  penplo  wills  it  should  be  m, 
beoanae  a  people  vbo  feoln  the  n^unt  of  tbcm  too  lato,  whn  {nel»  bto 
late  that  w^ont  thorn  the  existence  of  the  couuti7  haDgs  t>y  a  tfaroad, 
has  bD«a  Ble«piug  in  security  in  the  idlo  belief  that  a  natioD  of  froe- 
men,  animated  n-ith  n  geiiotml  dutorminatton  to  renst  a  fiiniign  y<dB^ 
can  never  be  fiubdnvd. 

'  This  ii>ft«int,  wliivh  men  so  trimnpLantl}'  apply  to  the  provpocta  of 
this  coiintiy,  i^  rma  nf  LhtiHo  pnijiidicf«  nhicn  ik  contradicted  by  the 
testimony  of  all  hint^jry,  bnt  which,  ae  it  ilatleni  our  conifurta,  oar 
indolence,  and  our  nationnl  pride,  has  been  too  generally  rocoivod 
by  UH,  luul  may  do  us  iulinitc  mi^hiof.' 

But  none  can  no^  give  &lr.  Cobden  a  better  idea  of  the  txin^ 
-ind  troul)le  which  must  be  devoted  to  the  formation  of  an  efSi- 
cicnt  army  than  tin*  Voliintpprs  themselves.  They  will  provn 
to  him  thnt  he  is  guilty  of  simph>  absurtlity  when  lir  speaks 
(if  'drillini;  an  army'  as  he  woultl  of  preparing-  a  speech,  or 
writing  a  pamphlet,  or  mokiiij^  judicious  armnf^ements  for  a 
ragged  •school  picnic,  or  for  the  annual  meeting  of  a  scientific 
association — all  of  which  require,  hy-tbe-bye,  an  amount  of  r»ie 
ami  forethought  wliich  those  who  have  mtt  undertaken  them  ars 
not  aware  nf  M,  Martin  al6<i  will  enlighten  him  furtlier  as  to 
the  n^sult  nf  employing  undisciplined  forces  and  raw  troa|ML 
That  oOicer  has  *  looked  through  all  the  campaigns  in  which 
Volunteers  have  been  employed,'  has  raked  together  a  number  of 
cases  in  which  inferior  troops  have  misl>ehaved  themst-lves,  ancl 
has  paraded  them  before  his  readers,  to  sliow  how  little  de|ienp 
dencv  is  to  be  placed  upon  our  Volunteers :  forgettiog  all  the 
time,  or  not  knowing,  pcrlinps,  how  much  trouble  thoie  Volun- 
teers have  taken,  by  drilling  in  small  bodies,  mnrKcuvring  in 
large  brjdies,  and  submitting  to  discipline  when  under  arms  and 
on  duty,  to  acquire  mLlita.ry  pnificiency, 

M.  Martin,  indeed,  arrives  under  this  misapprehension  at  n. 
conclusioQ  which  is  atiU  more  satisfactory  to  him.  The  Uriiixh 
Volunteers  must,  he  conceives,  inevitably  turn  out  a  failure, 
because  the  Vtilunteers  of  all  other  countries— <»f  France.  Spain, 
America— luive  failed  liefnn-  them.  In  pniof  of  this  piisitinn  he 
refeis  to  the  lO.iHK)  rn-uciimen  «ho  fled,  tmder  numouriez, 
before  15(K>  Prussian  hussars  in  171^2;  and  the  2()(K)  Spanish 
cavalry  who  ran  away  fn»m  the  battle  of  Talavera,  although, 
accnrtling  to  the  Duke  nf  Wellington,  'they  were  neither  attacktxl 


I 


I 


37m  Voltuitearn  anil  Ntitiotutl  D(^'9aet* 


119 


nor  tfareatrnnl,'  bat  ^  frightoned  only  by  the  noise  of  iheir  owa 
firp.'  He  jHtiiits  out  that  Wastiiiigtoii,  in  1775,  and  McDowell, 
in  18(U,  were  suhjectMl  to  tho  same  di  soil  vantages  of  whole  rc^i- 
mi^QLs  loavin^  their  colours  on  the  eve  of  Ixtttle.  He  aascrtit  that 
II  irrofrular  troops,  'Volunteers  or  otliers,*  h»ve  constfiutU  exhi- 
Htfxi  the  same  qaalificalioiis — want  of  iroiwtancy,  excess,  cruelty, 
piilnffp — fmm  which  their  countrymen  suffereU  more  than  tlirir 
enfintca.  Dumoiirif^z's  snhliers  were  hrignntls  and  nssacsins,  and 
odMr  French  soldiers  '  e^or/^caien/.'  the  unhappy  DHton  for  eo- 
dravoaring  to  retain  thnm  <m  tho  field  of  bnttl<>.  Stmc  Spnnisb 
soldiers  massacred  General  Saint  Jean  at  Ciommo  Sierra,  and 
fiutened  his  corpse  to  n  tree.  The  American  soldiers  killed  their 
officient,  and  t]iri-atciii-<1  fiemrral  Wayne  '  de  le  coufjcr  en  viorcamz,^ 
Swiss  guld.ers  .issassiitaltHl  tlie  fieiieral-in-Chief  d'lCrlach, 
fter  the  aflair  of  I'Vanhrannen.  *  All  these  soldiera  belonged  to 
tnwps  badly  disciplined,  to  irregular  militia — in  fine,  lu  Voluo- 
tewB.  "ijTKt  nenfuntjanuiis  d'aiUrvg."  '  I 

These  iiistniicrx,  niul  i^thers  whirh  might  he  lulded  to  them, 
nlTufd,  no  doubt,  tiiterestiog  examples  of  tlie  uiipleawiut  posiiiuiis 
in  which  comniiinding  officers  may  occasiniially  fuid  themselves,, 
and  more  particularly  when  they  have  Krench  troops  to  deal 
with.  The  troops  of  chat  nation,  regular  ami  irregular,  have 
pxhibibiHl  the  qualifications  which  M.  Martin  would  especially 
ascribe  La  Volunti-ers  over  the  whole  continent  of  Euro|>p,  and 
have  at  times  desired  nuthing  so  much,  since  lriI5,  as  an  oppor- 
tunity of  irxlulgltig  then)  in  this  amntry.  We  cannot  but 
Rrmeniber  that  the  inJiabitants  of  t3ie  south  of  Fmnce,  when 
Wellington  entered  that  countrj*  from  Spain,  found  more  profit 
and  prtitcclion  from  their  enemies  than  finm  their  friends  in 
arms.  The  Irish  patriots  would  not,  if  they  read  histury  on 
these  subjects,  ha  so  anxious  as  they  sometimes  aifect  to  be  for 
French  iissiitance,  in  spite  of  all  their  wrongs.  Wc  must  say, 
however,  that  we  do  not  uurselves  anlici|>atc  luiy  very  shocking 
iate  for  the  commaiidprs  of  IViiish  V^)lunt(■ers.  We  nmy  feel 
suie  that  there  has  Ikh-u  no  ide-a  of  miytiiing  of  the  sort  hitherto, 
or  else  we  should  uot  have  heard  of  such  a  dispute  as  that  which 
occmriMi  with  regard  to  the  command  at  the  late  rvview  at 
Brightiin.  We  do  mit  suppose  that  it  would  occur  to  our 
Volunteer  Rifles,  or  tu  our  Volunteer  Artillery,  or  even  t^i  Colonel 
Rower  and  the  huiiling  -^'ntlemen  in  his  admirably  organised 
corps  of  Light  Horse,  if  half  the  Continent  were  to  invade  th<* 
coontry.  cither  to  sacrifice  Lord  Clyde,  ortocut  CotoucI  MrMunlo 
into  morsels,  or  to  tie  Lortl  Kanclogh's  corps*-  to  a  tree.  If  tlie 
Voluntcrrs  are  ever  called  out  for  active  servjce^-uf  which  tlicre 
is  nu  fear  as  long  as  thev  are  numerous  and  efficient — we  believe 

that 


thai  they  will  be  fvontt  to  be  *  brigamls  and  nssnssins  *  bj?  their 
C'iii!inips  imly,  Wv  rxpcit  tbL-m  to  ri'iniiiii  with  tlieir  tulours  OD 
the  4;v(-  u(  a  bntlh; ;  aiitl  we  gl\  l>  M.  Martin  full  warning  thflt,  if 
evi-r  it  faUs  to  hh  lot  to  charge  10,000  of  them  with  1500  of 
his  *  Landers,'  he  will  not  find  them  in  any  huiTV  to  run  nway. 
We  agree  with  him  when  he  says  that  the  reviews  at  *  Wibletlom 
(sic)  and  I3rightrin  will  dewive  no  one  as  to  their  effieicney ' — a 
subjetl  oil  wlilth  we  shall  have  a.  few  words  to  say  presently—— 
but  we  do  not  think  he  is  just  in  conittarlng  our  Vtilunleen 
cither  with  the  haSf-starveil,  ragged  pfitriots  of  Dumouricz.  or 
with  the  French  National  Guard,  of  whom  General  Geneau 
wrote  in  such  disparaging  terms,  when  he  reporteil  that  he  should 
require  10,000  regular  troops  without,  ami  50,000  with  them,  to 
defend  Lyons. 

We  would,  however,  remind  M.  Martin  of  Watttguiei  and 
thft»e  other  victories  which  the  genius  of  Camot  nchirveil  after 
the  defection  of  Dumouriez,  witli  volunteer  iHHjps,  shoeless  and 
hungry,  resjionding  to  the  cry,  '  In  {mtrie  est  en  danger.'  It  was, 
as  Napoleon  said,  *  Ic  plus  beau  fait  d'armcs  de  la  Kevnlution,* 
that  was  thus  performed  at  Wattignies;  and  in  further  reply  to 
his  histuriral  assertions,  vtc  will  quote  from  Lord  Macnulay's 
epitome  of  tlic  arguniriits  diat  wen<  useil  in  1097  agiiinst  the 
maintenance  of  a  standing  army  in  this  country  : — 

'  Some  people,  tudcod,  tidkvd  as  if  a  luilitia  could  achiero  nothing 
great.  But  tbnt  linBo  riootrino  svas  rofnted  liy  nil  nticient  and  raodarn 
history.  Whnt  wa«  the  Lacx^demouiau  phalanx  in  tho  liest  day«  of 
Lncedemou  $  What  wm  thu  Itoman  Legion  in  the  best  daja  of  Home  ? 
What  wnrn  thii  nnninH  thnt  conqtierod  at  ( 'rcs»y,  at  Poii^iors,  at  .\^n- 
conrt,  at  Halirlon,  or  at  Flodclcn  V  What  wan  that  iniglity  nrrajr 
which  Elizabeth  roviowod  at  Tilbury  ?•  lu  thu  14th,  loth,  and  IG^ 
ccntiune^  En^liKhaion  wliu  diil  not  live  by  thn  tnuln  of  wur  had  niodg 
war  with  FuccoR.'*  and  glory.  Wore  the  Englisli  of  the  17th  century 
so  degenerate  that  they  cutUd  not  be  trusted  to  play  the  men  for  their 
own  homi:fiteadfi  and  paritili  ehurchesV 

It  is  precisely  lurcause  wv.  are  of  the  same  mind  with  M.  Atartin 

*  Wc  haw  now  learned  from  Mr,  Motlej'd  mvarcltn  to  ««tiaiatetnoracon«otl]r 
ibc  wortli  of  tliat  ann/.  '  TIk-ic  wi-rr,'  hiu  wys  (Ibstorj  uf  tJic  United  >'«iher- 
liind*.  vol,  ii.  p.  015  et  wq),  ■  patrioiiim,  lojrnh}-,  coonifrc.  awl  t^thasium  in 
abuatUncc ;'  Wl  '  (here  wen-  co  lorlre»&cs.  no  regular  nriuy,  du  populaliuu  traioMt 

hody-giiam  of  the  Queen— and  l^iivttcr,  wflh  40i'0  men,  iinprnvMcil  wiik  « 
barnrl  of  WiT  or  a  loaf  of  br«id,  was  about  comnvncinK  )iiti  cnitijiictied  c^iiip  nt  Til- 
bury. (>D  the  tjth  of  August  ihff  Artuaiia  vug  iu  Calais  Kuads  esitecting  XlexuuAtr 
Farnoae  lo  lead  Iiis  ImoM  tipon  l.o«don.'  GomI  fortune  mut  galUst  nllnff  uvcd 
u>  firoin  ibti  cabniilT ;  out  the  nnditciplined  inr>b  wbicli  wu  aiHinblrd  under  aa 
inooiiipctciit  couiijiauder  ou  ahorv  muiiH  liavc  done  litUo  to  arert  it;  nod  ki*  ban 
in  this  ra%p  a  snlSdeiit  proof  of  thi-dtffictilt)'  of  improrisin^ananiiy  in  an  inirml 
of 'diplomatic  corrCTpoailencc.' 


I 


Tiie  Vohiuteers  aud  Natwmil  Defence. 


181 


in  preferring  wcll-disciplincd  troops,  that  wc  differ  »o  materiallv 
from  Mr.  C^jlxleii.  Our  gtuxi  friends  MM.  Ducus  and  Martin 
would  not  (ii"  h_v  any  chance  thev  should  become  our  enemies) 
desire  to  see  us  in  a  worse  plight  than  that  in  which  he  would 
place  us — of  vainly  emlearouring  to  extemporise  nn  nrmy  while 
tiic  Forcifrn  Secretary  tor  the  time  being  eiertetl  himself"  by 
diplomatic  scheming  to  play  the  part  of  a  fortress,  and  gain 
rime  ;  in  anxious  fr.ir  lest  his  devices  might  not  have  the  desired 
rtrecl,  anil  witli  the  full  Itntiwh^K^  that  his  utmiMt  effbrts  must 
have  but  an  indifferent  result.  But,  In  truth,  there  are  stronger 
grouods  now  for  turning  a  deaf  car  to  this  male  syren,  and 
a\oiding  his  prfK-rastin.ition-plan.  Improved  weapons  have 
made  tlie  art  of  war  mare  difficult  of  acquirement  and  more 
scientific  than  it  was  Ix-fore.  Kifled  niiiRki-ts  and  elun^tnl 
buUcta  are  uiieless  in  the  lianils  of  nny  but  rari-fully  trained  men, 
VVell-eouipped  troops  are  more  p«>werful  tlian  ever  against  the 
rftw  Ici'ies  and  half-armed  mobs  which  Mr.  Cobden  would  place 
at  uur  disposal,  and  which  M.  Martin  app'urs  to  fenr  mure  as 
friends  than  t«i  despise  as  enemies.  Success  will  very  much 
depmd  in  future  wiirfare  upon  c(k)1  firin;?,  accurate  aim,  well- 
judged  distances,  abilitv  to  adapt  movements  to  the  nature  of 
the  ^ound,  and  fearless  exposure  or  careful  concealment  at  the 
proper  moment.  Longer  periods  will  be  rc({uiFed  for  the  training 
of  trtmps  ami  the  umuufacturc  of  armies.  If  Mr.  C^ibden  will 
(^fli^ct  an  arrangement  with  all  our  possible  enemies,  and  {larticu- 
hirly  with  those  in  Europe  and  America,  by  virtae  of  which  vre 
shall  be  ensured  a  minimum  of  tweire  months  for  preparation 
before  being  called  upon  to  engage  in  war  or  to  defend  ourselves 
from  aggression,  then  wc  will  heartily  acquiesce  with  him  in  the 
propriety  of  reducing  our  army^  disbanding  our  V'nlunleers,  and 
cMttingdown  onr  military  and  naval  exiwnsesto  a  happier  figure. 
Until  he  is  able  to  do  this  we  must  continue  to  congratulate 
ourselves  upon  the  fact  that,  with  the  jirogrcss  winch  our  V'olun- 
teers  and  our  forti6cations  are  making,  we  are  approaching  nearer 
to  the  condition  of  the  '  stniug  man  armed'  who  'keepeth  Iiis 
goods  in  peace.* 

We  mention  those  two— the  Volunteers  and  the  fortifications- 
together,  because  there  is,  in  fact,  a  virry  strong  natural  connec- 
tion between  them.  The  forts  and  other  works  which  arc  In-ing 
enlar^fMl  or  constru<-ted  would  be  useless  without  garriBons,  just 
nstlu-  numlMT  of  triKips  that  would  be  sufficient  to  garrison  those 
works  would  be  unable  to  defend  tlie  same  jjositions  without  the 
assistance  of  fortifications.  If  it  should  so  happen  at  any  future 
CLinc  that  there  are  no  Volunteers,  or  an  insufficient  number  of 
V^nluniccrs,  to  man  them,  it  would  be  neeessarv  to  ora^nize  some 

oih?r 


Tlie  Vobtjiteerg  and  Natmml 


other  force  for  that  cspiMnal  |mr]HMt>.  Such  »  force  wouUl  ncce*- 
s.-u-ilv  he  mnre  iipcnsivf,  axid  mlgbl  hu  Ipss  (-(Ticient  ;  anil  it 
would  not  tUt:n'fDrL*  bt!  Ilkeljf  to  tnei-t  wilb  Mr.  Cobdoo's  apprnvaJ 
any  more  than  the  Volunteers  tlif^maelveg.  The  magnitude  of 
the  forces  which  are  required  for  the  defence  of  a  military 
position  de]>cn<ls  upon  Its  natuml  ad%'antn^e»,  and  U))on  the  time 
and  Inl«>ur  that  have  bet-a  judiciousljy  bestnwfd  ujmhi  its  pnrpa- 
ration.  The  more  completely  it  is  fortififd,  the  sioaller  is  the 
number  of  troops  required  for  its  defence,  and  the  more  safely 
may  it  be  intrusted  to  partially  trained  men.  Continaoos  pcr- 
mantmt  works,  with  ciladelt  at  inlervnls,  and  advanced  works  in 
front  of  them,  form  the  most  perfect  fortifications,  and  may  be 
defended  with  the  least  difliculty  ;  nnd  detached  forts  connected 
by  intrenchinenu  of  a  U',mp4trary  cliaracter  demand  larger 
garrisons.  Unconnected  detached  forts  provide  a  seciire  retreat 
for  a  beaten  army,  enable  it  to  rcLTuit  its  strength  before  resuming 
the  oHensivp,  .ind  are  good  auxiliaries  to  an  inferior  army 
intn-nched  behind  them  ;  antl  detached  field-works  or  other  field 
intrenchraents  are  of  j^rcat  service,  when  they  can  be  rapidly 
thrown  up,  for  securing  a  position  by  means  of  troops  ini'erior  in 
numlter  nr  tminin|;  against  an  advanrtngVnemv. 

The  introduirtion  of  the  rillf  iutu  common  use  has  verr  much 
incraaaMl  tlie  inii»irt;Lni-e  of  all  works  of  forttftc.ition.  !t  will  lie 
a  hopeless  matter  in  future  to  assault  judii-i<msly  constructed 
works,  even  of  weak  profile,  by  daylight.  With  a  level  space, 
or  a  gentle  slope,  devoid  of  cover,  in  front  ol  such  works,  and 
tnined  riRcmcn  behind  tliem,  they  will  be  unassailable  while  an 
tmrmy  can  be  seen  advancing  ujion  them  ;  but  the  relative  advan- 
tages on  tli^  side  of  the  attack  or  llie  defence  during  hours  oi 
darkness  are  comparatively  unaltered.  The  rangt?  of  H(»00  yards 
may  be  assumed  as  that  from  which  a  bombardment  may  now 
bo  effected ;  and  in  MYler  to  protect  any  place  from  tbc  fire  of 
modem  artlllerj',  a  circuit  of  something  like  thirty  miles  requires 
to  be  inclndetl  and  held,  when  hills  do  not  intervene,  against  a 
rty^larly  orcrmized  attack.  Portsmouth  and  the  Isle  of  Wight 
properly  fortified  will  be  far  more  secure  with  a  garrison  of 
20,orM)  m€Ti  than  they  would  be  if  they  were  «nfortifie<l  with 
60,()()0 ;  and  by  this  example  the  importance  of  combining'  the 
Volunteers  and  the  fortifications  will  at  cmce  be  partly  realized. 

It  will  also  be  seen  that  the  more  edirient  and  numerous  the 
Volunteers  become,  the  leas  do  we  need  fortifications  or  works  of 
any  deseriplicin,  except  such  as  may  be  thrown  up  at  a  time  of 
expecti-d  alliK'k ;  and' it  is  further  spjMirent  that  the  important 
question,  as  U»  whether  it  will  Imi  desirabl(->  ut  prepare  aiiv  per- 
manent works   for   the  defence  of  the   metrojMilis,  must   depend 

very 


Tfitt  Volunteer»  and  NatiataJ  Defence. 


ISS 


very  much  upon  ronsiderations  of  this  nature.  If  wc  could  coant 
upon  alwavs  having  a  suflitdf-ntuiimber  of  effective  Volunteers  to 
(lefeuil  It,  in  cumbiaation  with  Hie  n'ipilnr  army  sind  militia, 
without  fortificatinns,  iuul  to  secure  all  othrr  iinpnrmnt  points  at 
tike  same  timr,  such  works  would  clearly  itot  lie  requin-d;  Iiut 
the  more  tbc  combined  lorries  available  are  below  tbat  &tamL-in], 
tlw:*  mon.'  are  they  necessary  to  its  security.  It  would  be  under 
tlieir  support  only  tluit  a  ^ood  defence  coul<I  in  that  rase  be 
oondurt(-d,  W  means  of  troops  Co  be  more  hastily  musten-d,  and 
additional  works  of  a.  tenip«>rary  cbaracler  to  be  tlimwn  up  as 
they  were  required. 

ThfTO  is  a  tendency  with  monv  to  look  at  tlie  morempnt  from 
t*wi  narrow  a  j>oint  of  view.  They  argue  thus: — The  Voliinteera 
win  only  be  useful  to  resist  invasion ;  the  French  are  the  unljr 
people  who  can  invade  us ;  and  their  only  function,  tbcrcfore,  ii 
to  secure  ns  against  French  invasion.  UeflecUng  people  sea 
higher  objects  to  be  ^ncd  by  it,  and  "greater  advantaj;es  to  be 
dcrivei!  from  it.  Reside'*  alTonling  mural  training  of  a  most  import- 
ant rhararter  to  all  classes — fanil  not  least  to  the  sliopmcn  whom 
Punch  lias  lately  erased  toipnz) — .'ls  well  iisa  mngnifirent  example 
of  the  pntriotic  feelinp  which  pervades  the  country,  tlie  spontaneous 
rstsblishment  of  such  a  force  lias  a  better  effect  than  an  augmen- 
tation of  the  re^lar  army.  Tbc  nno  induces  confidence  in  us  ; 
the  other  wuold  natumlly  mx-asion  distrust  towards  us.  In  time 
of  prare,  the  Volunteers  will  do  much  to  jmitce:t  us  from  in.sult 
axiu  provocation,  to  which  we  must  always  l)e  more  subject  in  a 
condition  of  weakness,  and  which  are  very  likely  to  lead  to  war. 
In  time  of  M'ar,  besides  being  n  source  of  actual  strength,  they 
will  br  a  nucleus  rotirKl  which  greater  numlwrs  will  collect  to 
place  tlie  country  in  a  condition  of  actual  sccuritv.  This  will 
UbrTate  our  fleets  for  other  duties  tl«n  that  of  merely  guanting 
oar  coasts,  aud  thus  be  the  indirect  means  of  protection  to  our 
colonies  aud  our  commerce;  and  it  will  enable  larger  bodies  of 
regular  troop!!:,  as  well  ns  a  fpx*ater  numt>er  of  vessels  of  war,  to 
he  employed  upon  any  foreign  expeditions  that  may  become  ne- 
eesary. 

A»  far  at  we  can  judge  firom  the  experience  thnt  has  been 
gained  up  to  the  present  time,  the  tendency  of  modem  improrc- 
nients  is  to  mnke  wars  more  sudden,  more  blooilv,  and  more 
cnstiv,  but  to  shorten  I  heirilii  ration.  Impnived  nn^ns  of  transmit- 
ting iuU'liigence  ami  pniviilinp  transport,  more  perfect  we.ipuns, 
atroDger  maleriAls  of  defence,  and  the  very  necessity  that  exists 
for  a  better  state  of  preparation,  will  all  contribute  towards  such 
peaoJts.  The  British  nati'«i  Ims  leamt  in  practice  the  inexpediency 
of  frittenng  away  its  resources  apon  petty  expeditions,  undertaken 

with 


I 


The  Volunteers  and  National  Defence. 

witb  inadequate  fcirces,  or  ill-foumi,  or  bailly  organised.  It  has 
proved  the  ailvanta^e  of  he'mg  able  to  jnit  forth  its  strength,  ami 
to  strike  heary  blows,  in  the  early  part  of  nny  struggle  in  which 
it  has  the  misfortune  to  be  engRgt*d. 

The  dilTerent  duties  uf  tlic  Volunteers  must  obviously  be  clas- 
sified under  four  difii-rcnt  heads,  comprising  the  Defence  of — 1. 
The  Coast:  2.  The  Commercial  Ports;  3.  The  '  Vital  Point*;' 
4.  The  Metropolis.     We  shall  consider  these  in  due  order. 

The  most  exposed  portion  of  ihc  coast  of  Great  Britain,  which 
lies  between  the  Homhei-  and  Penzance,  is  750  miles  long,  and 
conlaiiis  altogether  about  300  miles  on  which  a  landing  might  be 
effected.  The  total  distance  between  tlie  Tliames  and  the  Tnmar, 
over  which  the  most  careful  ]>rotection  against  invasion  by  large 
iKidies  is  re<iuire<l,  is  nlxiut  350  mites,  and  the  whole  a5tsnilnble 
coast-line  niiiy  be  taken  in  theaggrrgnteat  16(M^  miles,  A  landing 
might  be  attcmptfKl,  cither  by  small  forces  un  ditTerenC  parts  of 
the  gi'eater  distance  for  purposes  merely  of  plunder  or  destruction ; 
or  on  the  shorter  distance,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  certain  im- 
portant places,  with  objects  of  a  more  serious  ehanic:ter.  It  is 
f>[|a»1lv  iinpi>ss!btr  to  ftntifv  in  a  permanent  maimer  all  the  landing 
places  of  whifli  an  enemy  In  force  uiiglit  avail  himself,  and  to 
provide  for  their  all  being  defended  by  regular  troops  ;  and  it  is 
still  less  possible  to  protect  the  whole  coast  from  insult  by  such 
means.  It  must  be  remembered  that  any  assailable  part  of  U 
may  Ijc  atlackc^l  in  time  of  war,  in  moderate  wrnthr-r,  withuat 
[ircvinus  nolici?  being  given  ;  and  that  tlie  state  «if  the  atmosphere 
olone  would  determine  the  distance  at  wliich  tlie  enemy  could  be 
seen  as  he  approached  the  coast. 

Our  systems  of  telegraphs  and  railways  arc  already  far  ad- 
vanced towards  perfection,  aiuT  arc  being  continually  improred. 
for  defensive  purposes.  Information  might  be  afforded  of  any 
threntene«l  attack,  instructions  forwarded  for  the  transmission  of 
trof>]>s.  and  arrangements  made  for  their  transport,  all  within  a 
com)xin\ll%eiy  short  ]>eri«Hl  ;  and,  if  desirable,  an  alteration  in 
their  destination  might  be  effected  while  they  were  on  their  jour* 
ney,  by  telegraphing  to  an  intermediate  station.  Rut  some 
time  would  necessarily  elapse  before  troops  at  any  distance  from 
a  threatened  point  could  receive  their  instructions,  and  there 
would  then  be  much  to  be  done  before  they  could  be  ready  for 
service  on  the  M»ast,  After  assembling  in  marching  order,  they 
wnnid  have  In  proceed  to  the  railway,  to  emltark  on  it,  to  travel 
by  it  U>  the  vicinity  of  the  |><>int  attacked,  tti  disembark  from  the 
railway  vehicles,  and  finally  to  march  a  greater  or  Icim  distance 
to  the  shore,  according  to  the  position  in  which  their  presence 
was  required.      All  this  woidd  take  up  more  time  than  would  lie 

occupied 


« 


The  Voliudeer^  ami  Naiwnai  Defence, 


125 


i>ccupied  by  the  enemy  in  throwing'  a  portion  of  his  troops  on 
shore,  nnil  securing  n  position  for  covering  tlie  discmharkntion  of 
the  remalndpr.  The  most  favourable  raoment  for  upposiing  the 
landing  would  be  lost,  and  the  enemy  would  avoid  dnnjj^er  while 
carrying  on  the  most  peritous  proceediof;  connected  with  his  ck- 
peUition. 

'  ihit,'  says  Mr.  CoIhIc-h,  '  jf  you  art*  uimblc  to  drill  ou  annj 
while  tlie  dipKiitiatists  lire  iii  (-orn?spimi)ei)ri>,  where  is  your  navv  ? 
You  have  time  to  collect  your  llect  before  war  is  Bctually  de- 
clared, or  at  all  events  before  a  hostile  force  orrises  off  your 
cocuUl*  Captain  Cowper  Coles,  too,  would  invest  6,000,00<W.  in 
SO  cuptiln  shifw,  and  would  Iuiv<-  tfaein  ready  to  aet  in  nid  of  that 
fleet,  'riiough  he  appnivc^s  uf  the  Volunteers,  he  would  do  nwny 
with  works  of  fortification,  and  rely  upon  bis  coobl-flotilln,  aa 
being  the  bfst  defence  alike  for  our  coasts,  our  dockvardit,  and 
all  our  ports.  But  there  is,  unfortunately,  one  difliculty  which 
prevents  us  from  ag:reeing  either  with  CupUiin  Coles  or  Mr.  Cob- 
dea  ;  and  it  is  a  very  serious  one.  We  cannot  be  sure  that  either 
Channel  fleet  or  our  flotilla  of  cupoLt-ships  (when  we  get  them) 
ill  ever  \)e  In  the  rij^ht  jilace  at  the  moment  of  danger.  Indeed, 
wr  may  almost  take  it  for  jirrantcd  that  they  will  be  in  the  WTon<^ 
place,  because,  as  M.  Ducos  says,  *h11  the  geese  do  not  swim  on 
the  Seine ;'  and  it  would,  of  course,  be  an  important  part  uf  n 
French  scheme  of  invasion  to  provide  that  any  expedition  sent 
forth  to  effect  a  landing  on  our  Khores  should  keep  as  far  as  pos- 
sible from  our  Channel  fleets.  They  would  cither  draw  off  our 
fleet  by  a  feint,  or  they  would  embrace  an  opportunity  of  its 
beini;  at  a  distance  from  the  scene  of  intended  attack  ;  and  more- 
over, if  wc  aret^i  ilepeiid  ujKin  our  fleets  for  protei-ttiin,  we  ran  not 
afl<nxl  tu  neglect  a  feluL,  beiause  it  might,  u|><in  being  itegleeted, 
be  uimed  into  an  eflective  expedition.  It  would  take  the  Itritish 
fleet  more  tlian  thirty  hours  to  gel  from  Plym<HUli  to  Sheeniess, 
at  twelve  knots  an  hour;  and  mure  than  fuiirtfcn  and  sixteen 
hours  from  Plymoutli  tu  l*orts mouth,  and  SheeniebS  tu  Ports- 
mouth, resjiectively,  at  the  same  mte  of  steaming.  If  the  French 
attempted  to  land  at  seven  or  eight  o'clock  on  any  particular 
moniiDg  in  the  neighbourhood  of  tlie  Downs,  and  if  our  fleet  had 
Iiecn  lelegraphetl  for  from  Portland  two  hours  ple^iouslv,  that 
fleet^would,  provided  all  went  well,  reach  the  place  nf  ilisem- 
tMikalion  in  the  middle  nf  the  next  night,  in  time  to  team  tlint 
the  French  had  completed  their  operations  some  hours  before, 
and  that  their  vessels  bad  disjKTsed. 

It  isquitctnicthatasmaU  number  of  'iron-sides  '  would,  if  they 
LiMtId  lie  let  loose  amongst  n  fleet  of  transports  and  landing-boals, 
and  ])ermitted  to  destroy  them  without  intemiption,  be  an  excel- 
lent 


The  Volunteers  and  Katitmal  Defence. 


lent  moans  «f  dc-frarc^  uihI  «ufliri(;nl  to  beat  nff  die  cncniT,  mm) 
that  evt-n  one  stenm-min  woulti  be  in  the  mulat  of  them  like  a 
wolf  among  so  many  ibeep.  But  the  French  have  vessels  of 
thii  descriptiun  as  wdl  as  ourselves,  ami  in  greater  numben; 
and  lliev  wouM  lake  fpxMl  care,  unless  the\'  were  like  M.  Ducas' 
geese  again,  that  there  should  he  with  their  fleet  o(  trausijiurtB 
more  llian  one  '  La  Gloire  '  for  every  *  Defence  '  or  *  Resislanec* 
that  we  could  brin^  acraitist  them.  It  would  be  well  for  m^ 
iDdccd,  if  the  British  commanilers,  roming  from  diftcreot  dis- 
tances, arriving  at  diffeFem  times,  and  anxious  ui  6gbt  at  snr 
odds,  were  not  crushed  in  detail  on  their  wav  to  the  appointed 
rendezvous  on  such  an  occasion  hv  the  squadrons,  already  tn 
junction,  which  would  be  employed  bj  the  French  fur  thai 
purpose. 

The  assailant  of  a  lung  c<jast-1ine  must  a)wav9  have  grott 
advantages  over  its  defenilers,  and  imrlirnlarlv  so  when  lie  has  a 
powerful  fleet,  convenient  jilaces  of  f.-mbarkatiDii,  suBicicnt  mcaiv 
of  transport,  plenty  of  troops,  and  good  boats  for  landiTig  thna. 
He  is  independent  now  of  the  direction  of  the  wind,  tfaougli 
not  of  its  furre  or  of  tlie  waves ;  he  lias  tlie  choire  of  time 
and  pla<-e,  and  he  knows  prei-i^elv  the  |Miiuts  at  which  the 
mass  of  his  forces  will  l>e  most  required  ;  while  the  defenders 
are  obliged  to  watch  lor  the  development  of  his  plans,  and  frus- 
trate them  as  best  they  may  when  they  have  discovered  the 
object  of  thom.  The  south  coast  of  England  and  the  north  coftst 
of  France  have  l»een  most  conveniently  arranged  by  Nature  for 
the  desijutch  of  narlike  expetlitions  frum  tlit;  one  to  the  other; 
and,  fully  agreeing  widi  Mr.  CuIkIcil  in  dt^iring  that  die&e  impn- 
site  coasts  shoidd  be  <lcvoted  to  unfettered  coninierce,  for  which 
they  arc  equally  well  suited,  instead  of  to  rival  armaments,  we 
only  diller  with  him  in  regard  to  the  means  by  which  that  ol^ect 
is  best  to  be  attained. 

Mr.  Pitt  spoke  feelingly  on  this  subject  in  1 786,  when  bringing 
before  the  House  of  Commons  his  propt>sition  for  extending  the 
fortifirations  of  the  kingdom.  To  prove  the  utility  of  thev 
furtifiratioiis  he  first  apjirated  to  the  unfortunate  and  cnlamitow 
jHj«ition  in  which  the  country  had  been  placed  daring  the  pre- 
vious war,  and  he  odtled  : — 

*  A  eousiderablo  jiart  of  our  fleet  was  confined  to  our  ports  to  pro- 
tect otir  dotikyanh) ;  and  thns  wo  wore  obliged  to  do  what  Oruat 
Britain  had  nuver  diioo  before,  to  cany  on  s  defensive  ^var — a  wsr 
in  which  wo  wero  ondcr  thu  necessity  of  wasting  oar  resources  and 
impairing  om*  strength,  without  any  prospect  of  any  poKsiblu  bene£t 
by  which  tti  mitipnt*!  our  distrem.  .  .  ,  Shame  and  ii£9iotiou  wm 
btougbt  u|K>u  UH  by  the  Amciriciui  War.     Was  the  Uuom  rwdy  to 


I 


i 


2T^e  yolatttren  and  National  Defence. 


«7 


.  napaanble  to  poetcrity  far  a  rapctition  of  nmilar  miifortase* 
dugrace  9    Were  they  willing  to  talco  apoo  tkomaetvM  the  liacwd 
'  truunuitling  do  djuigutv  auil  nUiuiutiuM  which  they  thcnuelveB  ao 
bitterly  ejqKrionced  T 

We  are  not  a<rgTc-asivc  now,  any  more  than  wr  wore  at  th»t 
time ;  we  wish  lor  nothing  bo  much  as  peace.  Out-  itpi^hhoars 
are  maie  rcstleat,  and  they  are  outstripping  us  a  second  timR  in 
the  rccmistruction  of  their  navy.  'Ilieir  institutions  are  less- 
stable,  and  their  army  is  n  master  tliat  they  are  ob1i|^.-d  to  pstHJ 
pitiate.  They  have  troops  enough  and  to  spare  in  ronati 
readiness,  and  their  railways  may  be  made  available,  whenenorl 
the  occasion  arises,  to  convey  those  troops  to  different  ports, 
Numeroos  steam -transports  woold  be  found  tor  their  conveyance 
very  soon  after  war  was  declared,  and  Ixiats  of  improved  eon- 
ttmcuon  for  landing  them  on  oor  shoren.  We  ought  not  only 
Co  be  prepared  to  repulse  them  on  their  arrival,  but  further 
to  show  them  always  a  front  so  formidable  as  to  prevent  them 
fiafn  spri<iuft]v  entertaining  thr>  iilen  of  an  attack. 

We  will  8Up|iofte,  tben,  fur  tlie  sake  of  ai^tment,  that  we  are 
bC  war  with  Fmiu-e,  and  tliat  tlu-  I'lench  h:iv<r  made  arrangements 
for  an  attack  upon  us  in  great  force,  while  we  have,  at  the  same 
dale,  been  getting  ready  to  receive  them.  A  French  fleet 
appaan  off  PU-mooth,  and  a  British  fleet  proceeds  thither 
to  attack  it.  Wliile  a  great  battle  is  being  fnuglit  there,  the 
Ftenrfa  mnri*  down  their  troops  upon  their  seajMirts,  aiifl.  em- 
harkint;  ihcra  in  the  course  ,of  the  evening,  they  direct  tbcm  at 
uuce  u]>i>u  three  or  four  points  of  the  coxst  between  Brighton  and 
the  Thames,  that  they  may  reach  their  respective  destinatiotu 
early  on  the  following  morning.  Men  ou  hursultactk  gallop  to 
the  nonrett  telegraph-stalions  as  soon  as  the  flotilla  is  caught 
st^bt  of  fnitn  %'arious  |Hnnts;  telt-grams  are  sent  to  Whiteha 
and  Pall  Mall,  to  ttie  private  residences  of  the  Ministers  and  the' 
Commander-in-Chief,  and  to  the  naval  and  military  commanders 
in  the  viriiiity  ;  and  the  important  annonncemcnt  is  made  in 
second  editions  of  the  new3pa|>eT8  in  large  ty\*c.  But  it  would 
be  as  useless,  if  there  were  no  troops  witliin  reach,  to  depend 
Hpon  the  instructions  consequent  upon  these  tclegrums  as  uptml 
tile  notices  in  the  ncws}Mi{K.'rs  for  op|Kising  the  landing  of 
CDcmT.  We  must  now  (lescriW  the  8|>erial  means  of  resia 
whirb  ought  to  be  kept  in  n-ailiness  with  tliat  ubjecl. 

We  will  distribute  tlie  invading  anuj'  into  four  great  division^ 
eftch  contsining  50,(X)0*  men  ;  uid  we^will  allot  to  each  of  theseij 

divisioi 

*  Each  ercil  iUvbion  of  50,i)0o  men  eonld  be  xnaajfoned  for  so  iburt  a  dutaoMj 
in  vends  uving  an  sggivffttc  of  50,000  toiu  ;  each  would  require  two  and  a  ^"^^ 


divisions  a  separate  bay  fur  its  attempt  at  laroling.  TUt*  difTprem 
vess<>U  approach  tlic  .thore,  and  drop  tlicir  anchors ;  antl  the  flal' 
Ixittometl  landing-boats,  which  have  been  prepared  for  tlic  pur- 
poBc,  come  alongside  Accommodation-ladders  are  passed  down  ; 
the  ijifnutrv,  who  are  the  first  to  Innd,  make  their  wav  int<>  die 
boats ;  tliey  sit  duwii,  tti  screen  themselves  as  much  as  possible; 
the  c-oininaiidin^  officer  in  each  iNKtt  take^  his  seat  in  the  bow; 
and  tbey  pull  to  land  in  compact  order,  under  cover  of  a  hcavTi' 
Arc  (rom  the  fleet  and  from  any  small  craft  and  armed  boats  thai 
may  accompany  them.  As  the  foremost  boats  touch  Uie  shoiv, 
the  ofliixTs  jump  out,  followed  by  tlieir  men ;  and  they  pndea- 
vour  to  adviinre  in  skirniishin^  order,  expecting  that  the  next 
detachment  will  supply  them  witli  support.  The  men  of  this 
first  detachment  will  probably  bf  selected  for  tlie  duty,  and  will 
make  good  use  of  any  shelter  that  they  can  iind.  They  will  not, 
like  those  that  follow  at  a  later  period,  be  loaded  with  their 
luggage  and  provisions  ;  their  business  betn<^  to  drive  bnrJc,  if 
l>os8ible,  any  force  that  may  be  assembled  to  oppose  them,  and 
at  any  cost  to  hold  their  own  until  their  comrades  con  join 
them. 

A  c»>mparali\fdy  small  force  will  suffice  to  check  each  of 
these  attempts,  if  it  be  on  the  spot,  and  if  it  be  well  [tostcd 
hefoR!  the  boats  leave  the  ships ;  but  it  must  aftcrwanls,  to  be  of 
nny  avail,  be  increased  in  projMrtion  to  the  time  that  has  been 
]ost.      Ilpfore  the  adaptation  of  steam    power  to  naval  purpu»es, 


mile*  of  bescli  and  *Dc>iorsf(« ;  and  «ach  miglit.  wttb  goml  meana  sod  spplisaMS, 
be  disemborked  with  ^ iias  aad  sloKs  iu  12  hours  ia  Hae  WMibur. 

n'heii  itit!  Ilritisli  trooiM  laudt-d  in  Kf^ut  in  isoi,  l*,&(iO  men  in  900  Tcssds 
iTJcliril  Alwukvr  Bay  on  (he  Ui  of  March,  bni  mvif  deisined  by  hiid  vcaititr 
till  th«  t»iti  llar^.  At  two  o'clock,  uii  iliat  inoniing  (Itev  commcDcrd  opuniliuiii ; 
&.iO(i  ineti  w(rr«  placed  in  150  lKial&,  aud  ihejr  pulled  for  the  Hltnre  at  ?  a.m.  uiidrr 
a  bravv  fire.  Out,  oT  the  2"  OOfi  French  tronns  irho  wuro  t!icn  In  ttopt.  3W^ 
lilted  iii«  beach,  tl&iiked  by  13  gnus  on  oii«  Kiik*  and  the  castli)  of  Alwtikir  oa  the 
oih«r.  The  boala  rmchi-d  the  land  ia  admimble  nrdcr;  ax  miiiDtK  aflcrwsnif 
the  force  Blood  in  baf  tlu  aimy.  aiiri  in  so  hour  SiiUK  men  were  established  on  the 
bcightc  be Tctiil.     Tlip  K-mniudcr  of  tlie  forw  wa«  landed  under  llieir  protection. 

TbL-  HriiUh  uituy,  of  abi'iii  .tO.OfO  men,  wss  eoDveyvd  lutbc  CrinuniD  13S4  b 
64  vcsM'U,  31  fill-  ariillL'ry  ami  thrir  lifirws.  The«L-  wrre  aaelion<d  on  the  I4tb 
of  September,  in  nx  lines,  at  bnlf  acabic  apart,  aud  did  ootoccnpy  a  uilc  of 
nnchora^.  Thuy  were  iait«r»li]y  mipplJett  with  ilitr  incaasof  laiidiiiic  guns  and 
horcea,  and  a  platform  ii|^h(iii  two  Imnis,  which  was  i-xtrmpnriwil  for  ine  iit>riK)iR>, 
Mwn  broke  up^  Their  prmcqial  aid  wa«  d(rnv«i1  from  the  •  Minua'  and  '  UrtaMla,' 
aod  other  small  tleamerF,  from  <«hicb  Uie  troops  sii-ppod  asbora  across  a  sraoller 
boat.  Tbcy  landed  Iheiv  iofuiitry  tii  one  day,  Imt  the  furf  Impeded  Ibeir  fnnher 
operadoDB.  The  Frvnch  emtmrk'ed  S9,ouu  meu,  68  fi«ld*pieo(%  and  V90U  horM* 
and  inulv».  ia  less  than  lUU  veaaels.  Tbvy  carried  ov«r  largv  flats  on  lh«  onlcida 
of  those  «»se)^  with  howsoptuiug  like  a  ferry-boat,  each  rB[)able  uf  suppurtiag 
hair  a  battery. 

B*«idcs  large  tnutiporu,  they  have  of  latt  coactmcted  ra/wMar-^Ie-d^Mtfgw- 
mtnt  of  3  Giiiieinor  dnvriptiou. 

the 


d 


The  Volt, 


Naiiottal  Defence. 


m 


the  portion  of  coast  to  be  giinrtlctl  a^ipst  attack  on  a  large  scale 
was  very  much  smallnr,  am)  therr  was  not,  therefore,  the  difEcuItv 
that  now  exists  in  ilefuiuling  it.  In  IMM  a  movable  brigade 
was  formed  nt  Shomclifle,  for  the  protection  of  the  coast  of  Kent, 
anil  was  rfnch-mtl  highly  efficient  under  General  Moore  during 
that  and  llie  folhjwiii;^  yrar,  by  its  equipment,  discipline,  and 
tactical  instruction,  and  by  ibi  liring  reailv  to  inov'e  at  a  moment's 
iiuticc.  This  brijiradc  afterwards  r<>rmc>il  jwrt  of  the  I-ipht 
Division  in  the  Peninsular  War,  and  its  services  in  that  capacity 
were  no  doubt  owing  in  a  ^reat  measure  to  the  high  training 
which  it  tbca  received.  Hlien  we  arc  next  threatened  with 
Invasion  wc  shall  want  a  numl>rr  of  brigiulcs  of  this  dinner ipUon, 
staliimed  as  near  as  jKJSsiblc  tu  the*  places  ot  which  their  services 
are  likely  to  lie  required  ;  ami,  in  aid  of  such  a  force,  it  will  l>c 
desirable  to  employ  as  many  Coast  Volunteers  as  are  founil  rcaily 
to  undertake  tlie  duty,  and  can  be  maintained  in  a  condition  of 
efficiency.  They  would  be  made  well  acquainted,  by  constant 
practice,  with  tlic  defensive  capabilities  of  tlic  assailable  portions 
of  the  coast  in  their  immediate  neighbourhood,  and  would  Ik 
organised  more  especially  with  a  view  to  their  defence.  They 
would  throw  up  field-works,  and  might  in  some  cases  be  advan- 
tAgrously  provided  with  works  of  a  more  permanent  character 
for  the  protection  of  those  bays  and  beaches  near  them  which 
uScred  peculiar  facilities  to  an  enemy;  and  they  would  remain 
ready  to  defentl  those  works,  and  to  assist  in  protffcting  other 
threatened  parts  of  the  coast,  on  the  shortest  notice.  I-'ive  thousand 
mm  would  be  an  ample  force  to  secure  the  coast  against  any 
one  of  the  four  great  divisions  of  the  invading  force  abuve 
referred  tn ;  and,  indeed,  any  attempt  at  landing  in  tlie  face 
of  well-trained  men,  amounting  to  only  half  tlint  number, 
would  probably  be  unsuccessful.  Ono-tentli  of  these  should  be 
caralrj*,  iwotenths  artitler)',  one-tenth  engineers,  and  six-tenths 
infantry. 

If  invasion  were  imminent,  camps  would  be  formed  in  oon- 
veoiont  hicalilies,  and  moveable  brigades  kept  rea<Iy  for  imme- 
diate service,  composed  of  various  troops,  according  to  circum- 
slADcet.  On  the  Ant  alarm  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy  the 
Coast  Volunteers  would  be  called  out  for  active  service,  and 
Would  repair  to  the  threatened  spot,  where  they  wnuld  Ix-  posted 
by  llieir  fjflicers  (in  combination,  "I  course,  %vith  all  tlie  regular 
troops  which  ctmld  l>e  brought  up  in  such  an  enicrgt^ncy)  in  the 
disposition  most  suilabli*  to  the  nature  of  the  ground  as  the 
attack  was  devclojwd.  Duriug  tht  pntgress  of  the  enemy** 
boata  from  his  vessels  to  the  shore,  their  principal  object 
would  be  to  jwur  upon  them  the  most  destructive  fiic  that 
Vol.  112.— iVy.  223.  K  could 


130 


The  Volunteers  ami  National  Defence. 


could  be  made  avnilablf,  from  shot,  sliell,  and  riflr-bnilcd ; , 
to  sinit  as  many  of  the  boats  as  possible;  and  to  disable  tbe| 
greatest  number  of  men  oat  of  the  crowded  masses  in  the ' 
remulndcr.  Hilled  g^uns  and  muskets  will  be  of  great  ad\'nnt^re 
in  this  part  of  the  operations.  The  guns  will  be  placed  under , 
cover  from  the  fire  of  the  sliips,  thirty  or  forty  fwt,  as  nearly  as  i 
may  l>c,  above  the  level  of  the  sen  ;  the  riflemen  uill  be  scnttercd , 
along  the  shore,  behind  rising'  ground,  sand-hills,  breast-works.! 
and  any  Dolural  or  artifieial  cover  ihxit  can  be  procured;  and  all] 
must  he  disjKT&cd  as  much  as  jmsaible,  to  diminish  the  results  ofj 
the  enemy's  fire,  and  to  obtain  a  converfiing  or  a  cro5S*fire  aponr 
his  bouts.  The  cavalry  wiU  be  placed  bchinil  anv  natural  cover' 
near  the  beach  that  is  available,  or  behind  banks  of  earth  thrown 
up  for  their  protection,  to  keep  tliem  safe  and  ready  for  duty  aCi 
the  moment  when  their  services  are  retjuired. 

If  a  cool  and  accurate  fire  Lis  been  maintained  bylhe  defenders 
upon  the  biHits  during    their    progress   towards  the    shore,  the 
enemy  will  be  in  no  condition  afterwards  to  resist  a  close  attack 
upon  gaining  the  iKach.     They  must  be  assaulted  rigorously  u 
they  di»  so.     Their  gang-lwards  must  be  knocked  away  from  the 
boats  if  they  attempt  to  use  them  ;  and,  if  not,  they  must  be 
charged  by  infantiy  and    cavaby  as   they  struggle  out  of   the 
water.     A  soldier  up  tit  his  waist  in  the  sea,  after  jumping  ont 
of  a  boat,  is  a  most  helpless  animal,  and  the  first  det&chment  H 
will  probably  fall  an  easy  prey  to  well-trained  and  determined  fl 
men ;  but  if  it  be  otherwise,  they  must  be  duirgcd  again  and 
again,  and,  if  jiossiblc,  either  taken  prisimers  or  destr{)ye(I  Ikeforc 
their  supjMtrts  arrive.     A  similar  course  must  be  pursued  towards 
each  succeeding  detachment,  if  the  attempt  to  land  l>e  porsevemi 
in.     Should  it  be  so,   and  should  tiie  defenders  be  obliged  to 
retreat,  they  must  still  continue  to  keep  up  as  hot  a  fire  as  they  ^1 
enn  upon  their  asseulants,  and  to  harass  them  to  the  utmost,  with  fl 
the  knowledge  that  reinforcements  arc  ttcing  despalcbed  to  their 
own  aft.«tistince  with  all  pussiblc  sjmvmI. 

It  will  tlius  be  seen  that,  supposing  our  fleet  to  have  Buflercd 
reverses,  or  to  be  out  of  tlie  way,  or  to  be  unable  for  any  otW 
reason  to  act  against  a  hostile  expedition  threatening  tmr  cooit) 
our  securitj-  depends  upon  whether  we  tan  collect  on  the  threat- 
ened spot  a  sufficient  number  of  men  and  guns  to  repel  an  attack 
at  the  moment  of  its  being  made.  Five  thousand  men  is,  tu  we 
have  already  stated,  the  gn>atest  number  ihat  we  should  rrauiic 
to  have  in  immediate  readiness  for  this  purjKUie  upon  the  most 
convenient  bay  or  the  most  tempting  Ix-ach.  lu  otlier  plun-s  5^0 
would  suffice,  and  in  others,  again,  50  would  be  mon.*  than  enough. 
We  want  readiness  and  efficiency  rather  than  numbers.     If  we 


can 


I 


The  Vtiiunteers  and  I^/ttionat  Drfmce. 


331 


can  rely  upon  hnving  in  time  ofwnrwis  many  efficient  soldiers 
«t  each  assailahic  part  nf  tlm  rimst  as  nrr  reniiiml  fnr  the 
defiance  of  tliat  J>art,  we  shall  tlicn  ha  in  a  eonditiim  of  swiirity 
B9  fjir  as  our  cunsts  are  concerned.  If  we  cannot  do  so,  then  we 
shall  be  liable  at  such  a  lime  to  insult  and  loss  on  those  parts  of 
the  rnast  wliich  an?  not  so  defended.  This  will  be  a  jflorious 
object  fur  the  Volunteers  to  keep  in  view  in  further  perfecting^ 
their  organisiitinn.  Acting  in  aid  nf  the  regular  fnr[v$  nnd 
utilitia,  they  will  be  able  lo  do  very  much  towards  pn-eerAing 
British  »oil  from  inttull.  'I'hose  who  dwell  un  the  coast  aiid  near 
it  will  be,  of  course,  and  indeed  hare  already  been,  the  first  to 
untlertake  duties  of  this  description. 

The  defence  of  our  riveni,  liarbours,  and  commerciftl  ports, 
WEI  become  a  difficult  matter  in  any  future  wars  with  maritime 
-powers  pcjssessing  irou-plntiil  stenm-rams;  and  the  measures  to 
be  adopted  'for   the  protection   of  the    Mersey,  the   Tyne,  the 
Clyde,  and  other  centres  of  commerce,  will  retiuirc  serious  con- 
sidi^rntioiu     Ctwst  batteries  nt  the  mouths  of  the  rivers,  or  the 
entranees  to    ihc    harlmurs,  though    securing   them    against    tlie 
entrance  of  smaller  craft,  will  be  of  liUle  avail   by  tliemselvcs  in 
tome  cases  fur  preventing  more  heavily -protected  vessels  from 
rniuiiDg  into  them,  and  doing  an  infinity  of  mischief  in  them. 
Floating  batteries  will  be  of  still  less  use,  because  they  cannot 
be  made  so  strong  for  defence,  nor  so  |>owerful   for  oircnce,  nor 
BO  steady  for  accurate  firing,  as  shore  batteries,  or  batteries  con- 
structed  upm  solid    founiliitions.      Until  we  can  pnxrure  larger 
and  stmnger  guns  than  have  yet  bt-en  constructed,  which  shall 
crush  in  ine  sides  of  an  armour-plated  vessel,  we  have  no  other 
means  of  protecting  these  important  places  than  by  stationing  at 
them  ftmm-rams,  to  act  in  concert  witli  tbc  most  powerful  t>atteries 
that  we  can  give  ihcm  ;   but  we  can  in  this  manner  plare  them  in  a 
greater  or  less  state  of  security  iieconling  to  their  position,  their 
telatirc  importance,  and  their  liability  to  attack.    These  ports  arc 
Alreadv  partly  supplied  with  Volunteers  (as  well  as  with  batteries), 
in  proportion  to  the  energy,  wealth,  number,  and  patriotism  of  the  i 
population  in  their  respective  neigh bonrhfwds ;  and  those  Volan» 
tccra  are,  many  of  them,  in  u   highly   efficient  condition,  nnd 
pretmn*d  to  do  good  service  in  rase  of  attack.    Besides  |K-rfecting 
theiiisctves  in  drill,  discipline,  and  shooting,  they  will  do  well  to 
practise  defensive  mnvenients  and  operations  against  an  enemy 
supposed    to    be    landing    in    their    neighbourhood,   wlio    may 
endeavour  lo  spike  tlie  guns  in  their  batteries,  or  to  destroy  their] 
shippini;  in  dock,  or  lo  set  fire  U»  their  ston-houses,  or  to  levy 
rontributions,  or  to  take  advantage  of  any  particuhir  source  of 
weakness  which  their   locality  may  present.      In  thus  gaininff 

K  2  additional 


132 


The  VoiuiHeers  and  Nutional  Defence. 


additional  experience  tis  ty  Utc  best  modes  of  acting  in  their  own 
defcnee,  they  will  not  only  render  themselves  more  valuable,  but 
will  also  acquire  Increased  interest  in  their  military  labours.  They 
would  nmiain  at  their  homes,  or  In  the  mid&t  of  their  aeighbours 
and  friends,  amongst  whom  they  would  be  billeted,  if  necessary, 
oven  in  time  of  war,  when  they  could  not  with  advantage  be 
taken  away  for  any  other  dutirs.  They  would  want  nnthir^  but 
their  uniforms,  arms,  ammunition,  and  accoutrements.  'Jliry 
would  be  able  to  procure  fornl  and  all  necessaries,  including 
medical  attendance,  as  In  time  of  peace,  or  at  any  rate  without 
difficulty,  in  the  places  in  which,  or  near  which,  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  rrsidiug. 

The  Vital  Points  to  which  we  have  referred  are  the  Ro^-al 
Difckyards  and  Arsi^nals,  with  Dover  and  Portland.  Ilie  Dock- 
yards an<l  Arsenals  ought  to  be  rendered  secure  at  almost  any 
cost  fmm  sudden  attack  or  bombardment  by  sea,  as-well  as  from 
assault  by  land,  in  tlie  event  of  an  enemy  !)eing  able  to  gain  a 
footing  In  die  r<inntr^'.  Pesides  being'  Fef|uinHl  for  purposes  uf 
construction,  they  are  ninn-  esjK^cialiy  necessary  during  war  as 
places  uf  refuge  for  di»abl«l  vessels,  a«  secure  rendezvous,  and  as 
bases  of  opemtiong  for  the  fleec 

The  efficiency  iff  the  Navy  could  not  be  jMMSibly  maintained 
witliout  docks  and  basins  lor  rrpairing,  re-coaling,  and  refit- 
ting ihL*  dlfferont  vessels  of  thr  Wvvi  in  sec;urity  fn>m  time  tu 
time.  Skillwl  meehani<-!>  must  idwa^'s  l»c  ready  in  such  places, 
with  spare  machinery  and  all  nMfuUIte  materials  at  their  dis- 
posal. Without  such  appliances,  which  are  far  more  necessary 
in  thcsf  days  of  steam  than  they  were  before,  our  fleets  wuuld 
soon  become  useless ;  and  they  also  want  safe  iinchoragrs,  in 
which  to  ship  provisions,  stores,  and  ammunition.  It  is  further 
esaeutial  to  our  commerce  that  there  shall  be  localities  in  which 
convoys  of  merchant  vessels  can  safely  assemble,  and  in  which 
those  vessels  shall  l>c  able  to  find  refuge  wlien  they  are  purancd 
by  an  enemy's  cruisers.  The  tiuestiori  n&  to  how  such  places 
ought  to  lie  protected  from  attacks  by  sea  is  a  difficult  one,  and 
is  still  undecldeil.  Some  would  protect  them  by  forts,  otiiere 
by  ships,  and  others  again  by  a  combination  of  the  two;  and 
this  last  is  the  method  recommended  by  the  Defence  Com- 
mission. If  swnirily  is  to  be  obtained  against  stram-rams  and 
iron-plated  vessels,  il  will  be  necessar>'  to  rumbine  this  com- 
IKjuikI  system  with  solid  artificial  obstructions,  burh  obslmcdons 
were  used  witb  good  elfcct  by  the  Russians  during  the  Crimean 
War,  botli  at  Selmstopid  and  in  the  Baltic.  In  applying  them, 
the  chunncls  to  be  (lefendinl  should  )m'  nnmiwt-d,  as  far  as  is 
consistent  with  other  objects,  and  IwstUe  vessels  should  be  txim- 

jicdlcd 


• 


d 


77if  VoiuJUeers  and  National  Defence. 


183 


peUed  to  pus  at  slow  speed  within  close  ranf^*  nf  tlio  furts  and 
i>atteries.     'nicsr  will  of  course  be  armed  with  tbe  heaviest  giin* 
thnt   can    be   constructed,  and   perfectly  protected,  by  armour- ' 
plntitijj;  or  otherwise,  from  tlie  fire  uf  the  ships.     In  any  cnse  it* 
would  be  leversing  the  proper  onlor  of  Uiinys  t"  riiiphiy  the  flii--t' 
lor  the  protection  of  the  dockyards,  instead  uf  the  doekvards  for  thtt 
repair,  assistance,  and  security  of  the  fleet. 

But  it  is  not  so  much  the  sea  defences  as  the  land  defences  of 
these  places  tUnt  we  have  now  tu  deal  with.  It  is  of  the  utmost  I 
importance  that  they  should  be  well  fortified  and  well  gnrrisrmml, 
and  it  is  scarcely  le&s  necessary  that  Dover  and  Portland  should 
abo  be  secure.  The  former  is  a  stronghold  opposite  the  nearest 
part  of  the  coast  of  France,  which  must  be  held  for  three 
rcsisons : — 1.  Its  naturally  strong  position,  which  has  l)cen  for- 
tified at  gi'eat  expense,  and  its  harbour,  would,  in  combtna- 
tiim,  be  of*  great  advantage  as  a  tHe~de-j)ont  to  any  invading 
force  that  could  obtain  possession  of  them.  2.  It  wouUl  aflord  a 
valuable  depot  for  assembling  fresh  troops  or  collecting  Volunteer 
forct^,  a  useful  entrcp('>t  for  stores  and  munitions,  and  a  place 
of  refuge  upon  which  nny  Ixniy  of  men  inferior  to  the  enemy 
in  numbers  might  retreat  for  a  time.  3.  It  is  a  strategiral 
fortress  in  advance  of  tlie  metropolis,  from  which  movi?- 
ments  could  be  made  upon  the  flank  of  an  enemy  disem- 
barked either  to  the  east  or  the  wcitt,  to  check  his  advance 
and  impede  his  communications.  Portland  would  also,  with  its 
insular  jx>sition,  its  fine  hnrlmur,  am)  its  breakwater,  Ix?  a  mirst 
valuable  port  to  an  enemy.  It.s  anchorage  is  sccun',  it  is  easy  of 
access,  and  it  would  \m  defnntlctl  by  him,  if  he  obtained  pos- 
session of  it,  with  comparative  facility.  For  these  reasons  it  has 
DOW  been  strongly  fortified  at  moderate  cost 

The  Government  will  no  doubt  complete  the  fortification  of 
these  vital  points  witli  as  little  drl.-iv  as  possible;  and  whivi  this 
Ims  licfn  diini-  there  is  lui  gtK»d  rrasnn  why  tlicir  garrisons  in  time 
of  war  should  aol  be  almost  exclusively  composed  of  Volunteers. 
Thcv  would  letjuire  20,(XH)  men  for  Portsmouth  and  the  Isle  of 
VV'ight;  15,000  for  Plymouth;  a  like  number  for  the  Thames 
and  the  M<-dway,  including  Woolwich,  Chatham,  Purficct,  Dept- 
ford,  and  Slicrrm-ss ;  8000  for  Pembroke  ;  fiOOO  for  Dover  ;  and 
300O  for  Portland— ma khig  a  total  of  67,000  men  out  of  the 
IGOjOOO  of  which  our  Volunteer  force  is  composed.  This  in- 
cludes also  n  garrison  of  \.h^  men  for  a  work  which  the  Defence 
Commission  has  proi»crly  recommended  to  lie  constroru-d,  but 
which  has  not  yet  been  decided  on,  at  Shooters'  Hill,  fur  the 
protection,  not  only  of  the  establishments  at  Woolwich,  but  also 
of  the  metropolis  from  thatdirectioa    The  Volunteers  are  a  most 

valuable 


134 


The 


iand  National  D^/kUt,^ 


valuable  acquisition  for  garristming  these  fortified  placpi ;  wid  it 
is  a  <lutv  forwiiich  a  pm-tinn  ul'  tlirm  arn  pectillarly  wr!I  adaptrtl. 
When  so  emplo^'ed  they  will  be  Icntgcd  partly  in  homli-pruor  niul 
otiier  harmcKs,  aiul  partly  in  hillrts.  They  will  be  near  con- 
siderable tiiwns,  and  will  hare  no  difhculty  in  procuring-  any- 
thing tlmt  ihoy  can  rrquirc.  Tents  or  huts  could  be  supplied 
by  contract  on  short  notice  ;  stores  and  aromunition  the  Govern- 
mont  must  keep  in  readiness  on  the  spot. 

These,  and  other  measures  which  we  have  nlrcady  ciinsidered, 
will  all  have,  indirectly,  a  most  im|MJi-tant  eflcct  iipiin  the  defence 
of  the  inetrupolis.  llio  Channel  is  of  course  our  first  lino  of 
defence,  ^anled  by  the  fleet  The  coast  is  the  next  line,  which 
may,  and  indceil  must,  as  we  hnve  s}iown,  be  intrusted  in  a  pfTMC 
measure  to  locjil  corjis  and  Volunteers.  'ITic  rommerrial  ports 
and  vital  |M>itits  may  also  he  prin(-i|inlly  protected  or  garrisoned, 
as  far  as  land-scrvieo  and  coast-lmttories  are  ciinn^rneil,  by  tlie 
VoluntL-cr  force;  and  therej^ular  forces  and  militia  will  therefore 
be  most  of  them  liberated  for  active  duty  in  the  field.  Under 
these  circumstances  no  invading  force  of  less  than  200,000  men 
would  vrnture  into  tho  country;  and  the  metropolis  would  be 
the  int<lfiubt(^l  ohjecL  iif  its  attack.  Wc  ilo  not  believe  in  the 
fca«irhility  of  the  projects  that  have  been  put  fnrwiml  for  the 
simultaneous  advance  of  the  diBerent  divisions  of  such  a  force 
from  the  Avon  ainl  the  Kxe  and  other  |Kiints ;  nor  shouhl  we 
expect  it  to  come  from  the  Ilumber,  or  even  from  the  coasts  of 
Norfolk  and  Suffolk.  To  have  any  rhnnce  of  success  it  must  be 
landed  in  three  or  four  dirisions  on  the  south  or  south-east  of  Ine 
coimtry  ;  and  these  divisiditfi  must  marrli  in  support  ni  each 
i>lher  upon  London  without  any  iiiinvoitlahle  delay,  lliis  march 
upim  London  (if  it  ever  come  ofl)  will  not  »KXrnpy  manv  days; 
and,  as  long  as  there  is  any  chance  of  its  being  undertaken,  wc 
ought  to  be  prrjwre<l  with  prompt  as  well  as  vigorous  measures 
for  its  prevention.  Any  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  enerov  to 
land  sejiamte  ex|wditioji8  deslinntl  to  converge  upon  I^indon 
M'ould'  foe  to  our  ndvantngi',  as  we  should  tlien,  witli  our  admirable 
means  of  internal  communication,  be  in  a  gorKl  position  to  beat 
tJiem  in  detail.  As  the  const  between  Portsmouth  and  the 
Thames  is  that  which  ought  to  lie  most  carefully  guarded  by 
const  corps,  so  also  die  positions  )ii-twf>en  tlmt  roast  and  London 
are  those  which  should  receive  the  most  serious  ctmsiileratinn. 
The  railway  junctions  form  im|Kirtaut  stj-alepieal  putnts  which 
would  be  attackcil,  ami  ought  therefore,  as  far  as  jwwsible,  to  be 
protected.  The  coast  being  the  second  line  of  defence,  as  above 
explained,  flanknl  by  Dover  and  Portsmouth,  it  follows  that 
Canterbury,    Aabford,   Tunbridgc,   R«I    Hill,    Guildford,    and 

Reading 


I 


The  Voiunteers  and  NatiQWil  Dffewx. 


18S 


Reading  woold  be  upon  the  third  line,  uid  Chatham  and  Stroud 
(or  Shofitera'  Hill),  Croydon  and  Norwood,  Kingston  and  Wind- 
sor, iin  thn  iVmrth  liiin.  Tlje  first  great  buttle  would  Ik'  fought, 
proWblj,  ncit  Tor  in  advance  uf  the  third  line ;  and  the  onciny 
would  in  no  case,  wu  will  liopr,  he  In  a  position  to  force  the 
fourth  line,  even  if  be  were  able  to  attempt  it 

Although  we  might  not  have  time  to  drill  an  arsny,  as  Mr. 
Colxlen  proposes,  while  war  was  imf>ending,  and  while  the  f)n.il 
nreiKinitions  for  an  invasitm  were  Iwing  complf-teJ,  jet  we  shouhl 
have  ample  means  am)  upptutunity  during  tint  period  for  throw- 
ing up  temporarv  works  in  fnmt  of  these  |iosttions.  Thousands 
of  '  navnes '  An<l  other  workmen  wouUl  be  at  once  employed  upon 
them  nndor  the  ^idancc  of  the  Er^;incers.  Much  might  hcduno 
towanls  itrenirlhoning  them  after  the  enemy  had  ap|)cared  off  ihfl 
const,  ami  while  he  was  landing ;  and  the  work  wouUl  proceed 
witli  Inrreased  Keal  and  greater  confidpnce  alter  he  had  so  far 
developed  his  plans  nnd  given  indications  of  his  probable  lines 
of  march.  If  he  were  sucresbful  in  making  goo<l  hia  landing, 
he  would  then  of  course  be  hara.ssed  day  and  night,  and  confined 
as  far  as  possible  to  the  ground  on  which  be  stood.  Livery 
impediment  would  be  thrown  in  the  way  of  his  advance  by  such 
tTDups  as  muht  be  pinp1ove<l  lor  the  purpose ;  each  point  would 
be  disputed,  and  he  would  be  continually  compelled  to  clear  the 
WAV  before  him.  No  chance  would  be  missed  of  annoying  tiim 
by  demonstrations  on  his  llanks  or  in  his  rear.  Every  available 
nuQ  would  be  summoned  by  telegraph,  conveyed  by  railway, 
anS  honied  to  the  scene  of  action ;  and  by  the  time  he  reached 
the  third  line  above  indicated,  both  men  and  works  would  be 
in  a  condition  to  receive  him. 

The  Volunteers  would  render  important  aid  in  these  procecd- 
iagt.  Those  who  found  themselves  in  rear  of  the  enemy,  or  on 
his  Hanks,  would  close  upon  him  as  opportunity  offered,  and  add 
to  bis  difficulties  to  the  best  of  dieir  power.  They  would  sui^ 
pn'se  his  out|>agt9,  cut  off  his  stragglers,  and  keep  up  a  distant 
fire  from  all  sides  upon  any  bodies  of  his  men  who  lw_'came 
exposed  to  it  on  tlie  march  nr  in  camp ;  and  the  long-mngc 
Wempons  of  tbe  present  day  wouhl  enable  them  to  do  tiiis  with 
tdvaniage.  Those  who  were  brought  up  in  front  would  assist 
in  checking  his  advance  ujion  the  positions  which  were  being 
jircparcd  to  stop  it,  and  in  destroying  or  carr)-ing  off  anything 
that  might  be  of  use  to  him.  The  Engineers  would  assist  in 
blowing  up  the  bridges  and  viaducts  in  his  front,  woubl  super- 
intend the  throwing  up  of  intrenchmenls,  and,  while  utilising  all 
obilaclea  favourable  to  defence,  would  level  buildings,  walls, 
bridges,  and  all  other  cover  which  would  he  likely  to  favour  his 

operations. 


Tfie  Voiunteers  atid  NtUional  Defence. 


n{>cmtions.  Tlie  artillery  would  pour  shot  and  shell  upon  him 
from  any  heights  a\*ailabie  for  the  purpose,  and  would  (x-cupy 
the  batteries  prepared  for  their  reception.  Those  riflemen  who 
were  nut  fit  for  moi'e  active  exertinnsi  would  man  some  of  the 
intrcnchrnents  in  which  it  was  priiposwl  to  make  a  decisive 
stand  with  a  view  to  a  gt^neral  enf^gemont 

But  the  Volunteers  who  would  do  these  thinf^sofTcctually  must 
be  prepared  to  remain  iu  the  field.  Their  active  service  against 
the  enemy  woulil  not  prolwhly  ext^mtl  (iver  more  tiinn  a  few 
weeks ;  but  a  proportion  of  th«in  ought  to  Iw  made  inilejiendent 
of  house  and  home  for  tliat  period  of  time ;  and  others  might  be 
required  tti  keep  watch  along  the  roasts  for  many  months.  There 
are  no  corps  that  carry  knapst-icks  or  any  kind  of  kit  at  present; 
and  it  is  certainly  not  ne<;essar\'  that  they  should  all  be  so  bur- 
dened. Those  will  1  are  drslinitd  fur  gmTiHon  ilutv,  or  (or  sen-ice 
in  (-ommerrial  ports,  iiefKl  not  carry  mure  than  their  muskets, 
their  grcal-coats,  and  sixty  rounds  of  ammunition  in  tbeir  pouchn. 
But  those  who  are  intended  for  coast-duty  and  general  serrioe 
ought  to  be  better  provided.  Volunteers  would  not  want,  for 
temporary  use,  such  lic-avy  kits  as  regular  soldiers.  Light  knap- 
sacks, each  containing  a  flannel  shirt,  a  pair  of  trowsers,  socks, 
boot£,  towel,  soap,  a  'hold-all,'  and  a  tin  of  grease,  and  weighing 
from  12  to  1.^  lbs.,  would  be  all,  besides  the  aliovo — a  mess-tin 
and  cover,  and  provisions  according  to  circunuttances — that  they 
would  rec)uirc.  Tents,  and  cutting  and  intrenching  ttxila,  would 
have  to  tw  carried  for  tliem  ;  and,  indetHl,  a  complete  system  of 
trnnsjKirt  might,  acting  us  they  wuuld  be  in  this  country  oAlv, 
be  orgajiiseti  for  them,  which  would,  by  Iwiviiig  lliem  unfettcreit, 
no  doubt  render  them  more  ei£cient.  It  would  l)e  mtct-ssar)' 
for  this  purpose  to  select  four  men  out  of  every  hundred,  or  to 
attach  that  number  to  each  company,  for  superintending  these 
and  nil  necessary  arrangements.  One  would  be  madt-  responsible 
for  matters  of  traiisjYort,  and  for  the  tents,  baggage,  stores,  and 
tools;  a  second  fur  the  provisions  and  cooking;  a  tliird,  whea 
necessary,  for  the  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded  or  di£able<l ;  a 
fourth  for  the  spare  arms  and  ammunition.  The  baggage  would 
consist  of  a  stated  allowance  for  each  officer,  noD-cuuimissioned 
officer,  ond  private  ;  and  it  would  bo  reduced  to  the  smallest 
quantity  consistent  with  efficiency.  The  whole  might  b<?  con- 
veyed for  each  rifle-corps  by  means  of  five  covereil  sprJug-carts, 
with  one  horse  and  one  driver  each,  to  every  hundred  men.  A  field 
force  wjuipped  in  this  manner,  with  its  proportion  of  cavalry, 
artillerj',  and  engineers,  nil  similorly  accompanied  in  proportion 
to  their  re(|utrements,  would  form  the  etitc  of  the  Volunteer 
armv ;  and  we  shall    hope   to   see,    when  the  necessity  arise*, 

50»000 


I 


■ 


The  VoUmteers  and  National  Defence. 


187 


},000  men  w  tniin«]  and  prepared  in  difTcrent  parts  of  the 
Ictngdom.  It  would  be  an  iuU'»ntag(>  to  organise  at  least  a  few 
model  corps  of  this  description  beforehand,  in  order  that  the 
system  might  bo  tried  in  practice,  and  titat  it  might  be  ready  for 
more  funeral  adoption  in  a  time  of  croer}*enry. 

Uut  it  is  not  in  this  country  alone  that  the  necessity  of  an 
organised  drfence  by  Vohinteer  forces  has  been  experienced. 
Happily  we  arc?  no  hingcr  afraid  tti  *  put  arms  '  intii  the  liand«  of 
our  colonists  anv  more  tlian  to  make  suKliers  of  our  Tmrne  popu- 
Ifttion  ;  and  they  feel  that  those  who  would  have  most  to  lose  from 
foreign  aggression  should  combine  in  strength  to  resist  any  possible 
attack.  Acting  upon  thewprinrijilcs,  theC-anadiansnnd  the  Austra- 
lians am  loyally  ]ir*»vidinf,'  in  njipwitP  dirertions  from  us  for  their 
own  defrnec,  in  a  manner  whi(-li  is  no  li-ss  wise  than  it  is  mi>ri(»> 
riuDS,  The  Canadians  have  15<)0  miles  of  frontier  Ui  di-fi-ncl ;  and 
it  is  possible  that  an  unsuccessful  and  exasperated  soldiery  in 
wuit  of  uccupatiou  and  excitement  may  be  only  too  ready  to 
find  an  excuse  for  attacking  them  l>cfore  many  months  are  past. 
Tht^v  are  therefore  rarefully  discussing  and  eunsidcring — though 
an  unt.'s|»ecti.'d  hitch  has  rcccnUy  occurred  in  the  provincial  par- 
liament— how  they  can  best,  by  enrolling  militia  and  volunteers, 
■  certain  number  for  active  aer\'ice,  and  others  as  a  reserve,  assist 
in  securing  their  own  safety. 

The  Australians,  though  more  remote  from  Eunipean  and 
American  strife,  Itave  much  to  prtitect,  and  Imvi;  alsu  berti  pn-- 
pnring  tu  resist  atiy  force  that  M'ouM  l>e  likely  to  attack  them.  A 
Volunteer  movement  commenced  in  Victoria  in  1855,  in  conse- 
quenfze  of  the  Russian  war.  It  was  afterwards  promoted  by  feel- 
ing* similar  to  those  which  gained  ground  in  the  motlier  country  ; 
nml  by  tlie  end  of  1860  tlie  force  numWreil  upwards  of  4000  men, 
of  whom  3f)0  were  cavalry,  GOO  wereartilk'ry,  and  the  remainder, 
with  the  exception  of  250  naval  volunteers,  and  one  company  of 
engineers,  were  ritles.  This  force,  which  has  since  increased  to 
47')')  men,  is  under  the  military  command  of  the  major-general 
commanding  the  regular  troops,  and  under  tlie  immediate  orders 
of  an  officer  of  tlie  general  stiff  of  the  army.  The  local  govern- 
mrat  are  empowered  by  law  to  raise  10,000  men  ;  but  they  hare 
hitherto  abstained  from  going  to  so  great  an  expense,  and  have 
contented  dieinselves  with  ju:cepting  the  services  of  coast-corns, 
because  the  country  could  only  be  attacked  from  the  sea.  TIip 
Cittmatcs  for  1S62,  on  account  of  the  A'oluntecr  service,  ammuit  to 
23,40i*/,,  or  about  5/.  per  man  ;  and  they  include  ."iOOOi  for  prizes 
and  ineidenlals,  4000/.  for  clothing,  and  7000/.  for  drill-instruc- 
tion for  the  different  arms,  lliey  also  provide  extra  pay  for  the 
tiomm&nding   colonel,   pay  for  certain   officers,  serjeant-majors, 

and 


138 


27«  Voia 


NcU  tonal  Dfiftntee. 


and  buglers,  and  the  meuu  of  practice  and  tnstntction.  The  uni- 
forms are  very  flimplo,  consisting  uf  loose  frock,  trousers,  and 
fora^  cap,  ol'  different  colours,  with  n-hite,  black,  or  buif  accoutre 
ments,  RiQe-nn(|res  and  practice-butts  arc  Hupplied  br  the 
Gnvcmmciit,  as  well  as  clothitig  for  the  men  ;  but  bands  and  all 
luxuries  mt!  putd  fur  bv  the  funds  of  the  curps.  la  IBCl,  and 
ngttiii  in  the  jireseiil  j'ear,  the  force  was  called  out  to  a  gr^neral 
eiKainjmient,  and  kept  under  canvas  for  four  or  five  days;  and 
on  these  uccasions  all  the  details  of  camp-lil'e  were  practised. 
The  Government  found  transports,  tents,  and  ratlous ;  but  the 
men  received  no  [taj,  and  Ihcy  [irovided  bedding,  couking*  ui«»- 
sils,  and  all  the  other  tliiiij^s  tliat  tlief  required. 

Duriiij;  tUc  war  in  New  Zenland,   in  IfiliO,   when  tiYwps  werel 
much  wanted,  the  local  Government  readily  B<>;reed  to  part  withf 
all  the  regular  ti'oops  from  Victoria,  and  garrison  duty  iraa 
formed   by  rhc  Melbourne  Volunteers  for  several  months  dazing^ 
their  absence.     Nunc  of  the  corps  were  embodied,  but  each  corpsij 
WAS  (-Jillisl  u[xm  to  provide  its  quota  for  the  day's  dutv,  aemnl-j 
ing  to  rtJSter.     The  men  received  Gs.,  and  thp  non-commii 
nftitanTs  8a,    per  day,   when  actually  on  duty.     The  officers 
garrison  dutv  in  their  turns  without  pay.     A   lar^e  proportion 
the  rank  and  file  consisted  of  clerks  and  employes  in  banking 
or  mercantile  houses,  or  tradesmen's  assistants ;  ond  the  periectj 
success  of  the  system  was  due  in  a  great  measure  to  the   public  i 
spirit  and  gelf-sacrifii-eof  tlicir  emjdoyLTs,  who  were  tlitis  drpriretll 
of  their  sprviecs  at  jH'ritKls  over  which  they  had  no  coiitnd.      VVtyj 
arc  glad  to  be  able  here  to  refer  to  this  very  honourable  httlai 
episode  in  colonial  history,  which  is  not  as  well  known  at  ilj 
ought  to  be. 

The  Victorians,  acting  in  the  belief  that  their  emergency  was 
more  pressing,  liave  iade«l    iKvn  more   liberal   nf  public  funds, 
more  <;nrr);<!tic   iu   individual   acti<m,  and  mom  practical  in  their 
training   than   ourselves.      Tlicy   fult   that    they    cnahl    not   sd^^H 
upon  the  omnipresence  of  the  British   flivt,  and  they  saw   dM^| 
necessity  of  providing   other  safeguards  against   the  risk  of  a 
Tisil  from  a  hostile  squadron,  cither  from  Europe  or  from  Ame> 
rica.      They   have   gone   beyond   us  in   many   other   ways,    and 
we  are   not   inelincvl   to   follnw  them    in  all   respects.      But  it  is 
certain   that    additional    tniintug    in    r-amp    would    br    of    great 
advantage  to  the  British  Volunteers;  and  still  more  so,  if  it  wert^l 
conducted  with  reference  to  the  S{>ecial  object  uf  defending  somJH 
part  of  the  coast  in  the  mode  above  described.     Sir  ChariM 
Nnpipr's  idea  on  this  subject  wag  not  a  b»d  one.     He  despaiird, 
in   I8r)2,  of  the  Government   ever  taking  measures  to  place  the 
country  in  a  state  of  defence,  and  was  then  hoping  that  Voluntrew 

might 


A 


The  Volttniea-a  and  NiUioaal  Ikfence, 


189 


iuig:ht  come  fn-ward  to  assist  in  that  objecL  In  wntiiifc  to  Lord 
Elicnborougb,  he  sattl,  'Those  more  remote  coald  come  tb(>  nifrht 
befnref  sleep  in  standing?  tents  kept  fur  them,  have  next  day's 
cacerruK>,  sleep  a  second  night,  nnd  march  home  the  next  day  i 
mhI  agaui,  '  A  corps  aftiT  a  nij^ht  \\\  t-nmp  wimld  be  twice  thr* 
value  the  next  day,  for  by  sDcb  ftetails  the  moral  ferlinj^  of  sol- 
diers is  rai$e<l  nearly  a&  much  as  by  more  jmirerfiil  meniu  which 
these  small  details  prepare  them  for.* 

In  the  mean  time  our  Voluntwra  have  l>cen  by  no  means  inac- 
ti%'e  in  th<^  present  year ;  they  have  had  reviews  and  Aeld-dayt 
in  ahuiidaiire,  and  dicre  is  still  a  long  list  of  lliosc  which 
are  to  foiiiL*,  Iii  their  admimlili:  organ,  thi-  '  Volunteer  Ser\-ico 
Gazette^'  extendini^  into  September,  and  includinp-  the;  pn>- 
posed  encampment  on  Ascot  lieatb  on  the  2nd  of  August,  The 
wemon  commenced  must  auspiciously  at  BnE?bton,  on  Kaster 
Monday.  The  20,000  men  who  stood  on  Wliite  Hawk  Down 
on  tiiat  day  formed  a  luiblo  spectacle ;  and  their  snt«r(|uent 
nutrch  past  tbi;  Omiid  Stand,  as  well  as  their  maiKeurre-s  against 
their  colleagues  of  the  Inns  of  Court,  appropriately  emploveil  to 
reprctent  the  Enemy,  were  a  gladdening  sight  on  a  charming  day. 
The  rellection  that  the  third  of  die  *  Panics'  bad  been  succeetled 
by  tlie  c-onfidpjirp  dor  to  an  udranced  stage  of  preparation  must 
bare  been  satisfactory  to  every  mind  but  that  of  Mr.  Cobdcn. 
Wn  hope  never  tj>  see  anf>thrT  Easier  Mimdav  witlunit  such  a 
review.  It  does  uiimixttl  good,  by  affording  a  logitimat«  object 
for  whoU-wnTiK  fXdrrise  lo  many  who  need  it,  a  practical  lesson  of 
t  value  to  nJl  who  take  pnrt  in  it,  an  example  of  patriotic 
ing  to  all  who  witness  it.  and  a  useful  hint  to  those  in  other 
■Cttuntriea  who  read  of  it.  It  takes  some  away  from  less  manly 
and  less  ennobling  pursuits,  demonstrates  to  others  <tefu'i<*ncii*s 
that  they  would  otherwise-*  nut  jwrceive,  and  gives  vent  to  the 
OMUtial  spirit  of  which  neither  manufactui-es,  nor  commerce,  nor 
OHMperity,  nor  peace,  have  deprived  the  nation.  The  great 
nsenat  which  was  felt  in  the  review  was  testified  by  the  com- 
meata  in  the  press,  the  numliers  on  the  ground,  the  crowds  col- 
lected in  London  to  witness  tht*  return  of  die  gallant  corps,  and  in 
ntlicr  wavs  ;  and  wi;  had  ounielvr-s  the  pleasure  of  travelling  from 
I^mdun  to  Brighton  in  the  morning,  in  company  with  tlie  wife 
of  a  Kussian  merchant^  who  had  come  from  St  Petersburg  for 
the  express  purpose  of  seeing  her  son,  a  member  of  die  London 
Unircrsity  Corjis,  and  the  *  tallest  man  in  it,'  go  through  his  |Mirt 
of  tha  ceremony. 

Those  who  watched  clnselv  the  way  in  which  the  different 
corp«  took  np  their  ground,  ami  went  dirougb  Uieir  sulise- 
ijQcnt  manaruvrcs,  could  not  but  observe  that  the  Commanding 

Ollicers 


140 


The  Volunteers  and  National  Defence. 


Ofiiccrs  ami  Adjutants  were  ublij^cHl  to  make  up  by  increased 
activity  for  the  mistakes  of  the  company  officers,  ami  that  tho 
commanders    themselves  were   not   perfect     The   numbers   on 
the   fiehl    have    \\ovn  aptly   compared    to  ttiosc  engagrd    on  the 
Hn^llsh  sidr?  at  thr  battle  of  the  Alma,   and  the   jMisiliim   af  tlm 
*  nevil's-own  '  on  the  Red    Hill    to  that  of  the  Russians  on  tha 
heights  wliith  were  carried    by  the  British  troops  (hiring   tha 
battle,  on  the  tfOtb  September,  Itj54.    But  if  thcgeceraU  who  wer*! 
under  Lord  Raglan  on  that  day  liad  broug^ht  their  troops  into  line 
at  ri|i;ht  angh^s  to  the  Rusainns,  as  one  of  the  brigadiers  nf 
Clyde  did  to   the   west  of  the  White    Hawk  Down,  instead   ■ 
keiMiin^  their  front  to  the  enemy,  they  would  have  ensured  i 
evitable  defeat.     Even  the  steadiness  of  British  troops  could  n 
hare  endured,  first,  partial  destruction  by  enfilade,  ond  afterwa 
a  chanjje  of  front  under  fire,  such  as  tlic  \''o!umeers  were  oblige 
to  make  before  they   could   advance.     These  and   other  mi 
defects — as,  for  instance,   firinc^  from  all   sides  of  the  squares, 
friend  as  well  as  foe — must  have  been  perceived  more  clearlj 
the  gallant  Vcdunteers  themselves  than  by  their  spectators ; 
they  have  since  been  made  occasions  of  criticism.     But  jt  is  n 
generally  known,  as  it  ought   to  bo,  tliat  the  jirincipal  mistake 
tlie  day  above  rcferrei)  to  was  made  by  an  officer  of  the  Regnal: 
Army  who  had  been  appointed  to  a  command,  and  not  by 
Volunteer ;  and  that  the  Volunteers  themselves  bad  not,  after  a1 
so  much  to  answer  for  in  this  respect  as  the  regulars  who  aid 
them.     Regular  troops,  indeed,  seldom  go  through  a  ficld-da; 
without  some  blunders. 

The  mnk  and  file  have  taken  so  much  pains  to  perfect  them- 
selves, that  they  deserve  to  be  thoroughly  well  commanded.  The 
officers  have  been  chosen  in  many  instances  for  their  libenl 
contributions,  their  activity  in  the  cause,  or  their  local  inflaei 
rather  than  for  their  efficiency  in  other  respects.  Thero 
luiMTver,  instances  in  which  noblemen  iumI  others,  some  of  wh 
have  iM?rveil  in  the  regular  anny,  have  taken  the  trouble 
qualify  theuist-lves,  and  have  lM>come  highly  efficient.  We  ha 
one  advantage  in  this  country,  in  possessing  a  number  of  retired 
offifrrrs  who  are  glad  of  an  interesting  occupation,  and  of  one 
wliieli  brings  them  into  communication  with  people  whom  thej' 
are  glad  to  meet^  and  with  their  fellows  generally.  But  n  good 
Volunteer  officer  requin-s  to  be  a  man  nf  various  qu:iiifiratj 
which  are  not  so  necessary  In  an  officer  of  the  regular  arm 
He  has  to  command  men  of  all  classes,  of  high  education 
with  considerable  fortune — his  superiors  in  rank,  perhaps,  a: 
his  equals,  at  least,  in  independence — and  he  is  obliged  ti> 
^em  with  a  degree  uf  courtesy  which  is  not  always  employ 


TTlfi 


atid  National  Defence. 


141 


by  »n  officer  of  the  liiK*  towards  Uis  men.  The  Volunteers  will 
forgive  murh  in  their  ofTicers  if  they  find  them  attentive  in  the 
jierformiuice  uf  ibrir  duties  ;  but  jnefliciejicy  is  a  fault  which  they 
ciuinot  pardon,  and  no  mnn  &hould  dosiro  to  occupy  such  a  {mei- 
tion  who  has  not  first  educated  himself  for  it,  and  determined  to 
perform  its  duties  with  dili|:ence.  VV'p  are  glad  to  learn  that  a 
mnrlied  improvf-mrnt  has  lately  Ik'c-ii  (ibs«^rvrd  in  tlie  ulTicers  and 
non-i-oiiiinisiiouetl  uflitu-rs,  and  »i>ine  of  tlu*  corps  havr  lK!en 
hrimg^ht  by  thttm  into  a  state  uf  diticipliue  which  is  truly 
admirable.  It  was  noticed  very  lately  that  Lord  Grosvenor's 
corps,  DfH)  strong,  marched  in  line  for  200  or  250  yards,  and 
when  luilted  did  nut  rct|uin!  to  lie  dressed. 

Frrqui-iit  practice  m  the  principal  inethixl  to  be  employed  for 
training  the  officers  as  well  as  the  men,  and  theofficcrs  frequently 
labour  under  great  disadvantages  from  the  want  of  good  opportu- 
nities. The  men,  who  have  less  to  Icani,  can  be  instructetl  in 
small  numbers ;  but  the  ufiicers  caniiol  be  elTcctually  trained 
without  a  larger  muster  of  men  than  it  is  possible  In  the  general 
way  tu  collect.  It  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  both,  besides 
being  interesting  to  the  public,  if  the  programme  of  any  con- 
siderable operations  to  be  gone  through  were  in  all  cnscs  to  be 
made  known  lieforehand.  This  would  incite  them  to  the  study 
of  military  manoeuvres,  and  vimld  create  discussion  upon  the 
subject ;  and  it  would  be  far  more  I>eneficial  than  tlie  system  of 
keeping  the  operations  secret,  and  reserving  them  as  a  teat  of 
cfEcicncy.  It  would  be  sufficient  if  they  were  publishecl  in  a 
cheap  form,  with  a  plan  attached  to  them,  a  mouth  before  the 
proposed  field-day. 

It  is  now  ]>ermitted  to  each  Volunteer  corps  to  choose  its  oflm 
aaiform  and  uceoutrements,  provided  gold-lace  is  not  used  upon 
them,  ftubject  to  the  approval  of  the  Lord-Lieutenant  of  the 
county ;  and  the  Volunteer  Regulations  recommend  that  tlie 
clothing  shall  be  similar  in  colour  for  ench  arm  in  the  same 
county,  especially  in  the  case  of  corjjs  that  are  likely  to  be  united 
in  a<lministrative  regiments,  brigatles,  and  Imttaliuns.  M.  Martin, 
in  commenting  upon  this  ammgcment,  arrives  at  the  conclusion 
that  it  will  probably  have  le«l  *(i  d'asjtez  qrotesqtus  ristdUUn.'  We 
do  not  know,  of  course,  how  the  di^rcnt  costumes  that  have  been 
adapted  would  appear  to  his  eyes ;  but  we  have  not  oursclvesi 
been  able  to  discover  iinything  of  tlie  gn>te!»|ue  alMut  them.  On 
the  contrarv,  ihry  are  generally  of  the  most  somhrc  and  Imsiness- 
like  chaiiiLter.  We  quite  admit  the  propriety  of  leaving  it  to  the 
Volunteers  to  suit  tlieir  own  tastes  as  much  as  possible,  but  we 
sluwld  be  better  pleased  if  they  exercised  those  tastes  diflcrcntly. 

It 


142 


The  Vohitticcrx  and  National  Defence. 


It  is  of  Irss  inijwirtanci-  lu  time  of  peace,  but  in  a  jioriod  of 
it  woulil  Im?  a  grpfti  a<lvaiita<^  in  various  resnecU  if  the  Rifle  < 
corps  vcrc  all  clothed  in  scarlet,  and  closely  a&similated  inj 
appearance,  as  well  as  the  Kngineers  and  Artillcn-,  to  the  rpgulftr] 
troops.  They  would  then  be  more  easily  r«-<>g-niBed  by  ibeir 
firinwU,  and  savrd  rn>m  the  dnnprr  of  firing  upon  one  another, 
wliich  is  the  miBt  disastnma  of  all  mistakes ;  they  would  present ' 
a  more  soU1ici>Uke  ap]icarancc ;  and  they  would  not  be  distin-l 
guishnblc  by  their  enemies,  or  even  by  M.  Martin  when  ha 
Comes  amon}*st  us,  from  regular  troops. 

The  Brighton  review  also  afforded  a  good  practical  demon-] 
stration  uf  tlir  facility  with  which  Iroops  mijrlit  Ix-  moved  townnU 
a  thn-ateiied   |»oint  on  the   particular  niilway  which  would  be] 
most  likely  to  be  required  lor  such  a  duly  in  an  actual  ca«  of  j 
emerpcncy.     On   the   morning  of  the  review  G*J22  V'olunteer«f 
were  despatched  from  London  Bridge  in  2  hours  and  41  minutr^j 
and  5170  from  the  Victoria  Station  in  2  hours  and  20  minutes,] 
withnut  difficulty.     They  were  conveyed  iu  16  trains,  each  com- 
posed of  an  engine  and  tender  and  22  vehicles,  and  each  carrV"! 
ing  on  an  average  20  ofTu-ers  and  735  men ;  and  they  reitcbcdj 
Brighton  in  an  average  of  2  hours  and  28  minutes  irom  tl 
time  of  starting.   The  Brighton  Company  borrowed  on  this  occa-| 
sion  72  carriages  from  Uircc  neighbouring  companies,  and  70} 
carriages  also  brought  Volunteers  over  their  railway  fn>m  other] 
lines;    but  they  had    to   provide    for  their   ordinary  |>nssenger-| 
traffic  on  that  day,  as  well  as  for  the  Easter  Monday  traffic 
the  Cr^'stal  Palace,  which  was  very  considerable,  and  to  convej 
upwanls  of  2000  Volunteers   along  tlie  south   coast   from    th4 
fcveral  stations  on  their  own  line.     Indeed,  tbc  total  number 
jmsicngers  who  travelled  U|>on  the  London,  Brighton,  and  South] 
Const  Uailway  on  that  day  was  132,202,  including  Voluut 
and  the  holders  of  season  and  return  tickets. 

Tlie  vast  i>ower  which  the  railways  of  tliis  country  place 
the  disposal  of  the  Government  for  the  transport  of  troops  il^ 
little  known.  It  is  in  practice  limited  only  by  the  number  of 
troops  that  are  forthcoming,  and  railway  organisation  is  highly 
favourable  for  the  concentration  of  all  its  cncrpies  u]>on  this 
object  whenever  it  is  worth  while  to  interfere  with  the  ortlinarj 
traffic. 

Connected  with  the  Brighton  Railway  s\stcm  alone  thero 
145  locomotive  engines,  1858  carriages  or  passenger  vehiclea,  aii 
2588  waggons  ami  tnicks  or  merchandise  vehicles,  fnr  workin| 
240  miles ;  on   (he  S«»uth-F.asl(Tn   tlicre  arc  179    engines,   973 
carriages,  and  2535  waggons^  for  2ti(>  miles ;  and  ou  the  Sout 

Western 


TTkfl  Volunbvrx  trnd  N(ttional  Defence. 


143 


VVesteni,  177  engines,  850  carriages,  anJ  3488  trucks*  for  444 
miles.  These  numljers  might  lie  incimsf^  to  any  amount,  if 
increase  were  requirwl,  at  a  tl.iy's  notice,  by  aid  from  iIip  gigantic 
resources  of  tlie  more  extensive  systems  north  of  La  'ndon.  Kxcur- 
sion  tniffir  is  more  difficult  to  manage  in  many  respects  than 
military  tmfiic.  A  worti  from  the  cnmmiinding-officcr  procures 
an  amount  of  onlcr  in  the  one  case  whii-li  bnrrirrs  and  |>olicemen 
fiul  to  do  in  the  other.  A  himdrctl  thousand  men  may  at  an^ 
time  be  conveyed  without  fatigue  from  Lomlon  to  Brighton  in  a 
single  day,  and  they  may  further  be  ti-ansported  along  the  a)ast 
from  point  to  point,  to  Portsmouth  and  Weymouth  on  the  west, 
mnd  to  Dover  nn  the  east,  without  break  of  gauge.  They  may 
also  be  brought  fnim  the  north  through  l^ondon,  and  from  the 
north,  ri'ri  Heading,  without  coming  to  London  at  all  ;  and,  in- 
deed, the  means  of  mmmimication  thus  affiirdrd  are  of  so  much 
importanco  to  succGssfuI  defence,  that  the  railway  svstem  detei^ 
mines  to  a  great  extent  in  this  country,  as  it  has  notably  done  in 
America,  the  stintegir  lines  along  which  offensive  operations 
most  be  carried  on,  and  defensive  movements  ejected.  Railways 
most  become  primary  objects  of  attack  anil  (h^fenre,  and  the 
scixure  of  important  junctions,  such  as  Drighton  and  Lewes, 
would  form  part  of  any  project  of  invasion  that  was  judiciously 
conceived. 

There  is  another  question  of  transport,  which  has  attracted 
less  attention,  but  is  also  well  deserving  of  notice.  \Ve  have 
already  shown  the  importance  in  a  time  of  danger  of  having  a 
boily  of  troops  more  or  less  numerous,  according  to  the  liM-ality, 
muv  to  oppose  an  attempt  at  landing  on  any  part  of  the  coast  at 
the  shortest  notice.  Where  railway  communication  is  available, 
It  would  of  course  be  emplovcd,  for  moving  to  a  distance,  or  for 
following  a  hostile  fleet  roand  the  enast;  but  the  difficulty  still 
remains,  of  moving  llie  guns  and  stores  from  the  railway  tn  the 
sbore^  or  for  shorter  ilislances  round  the  coast,  ami  for  dotng  this 
without  loss  of  time  by  means  near  at  band.  Kor  this  pnrpose  all 
the  beasts  of  burden  and  vehicles  of  the  neighbourhood  would, 
of  coarse,  be  willingly  offered,  and  many  would  be  speedily  used 
in  a  period  of  actual  danger  ;  but  it  is  an  advantage  to  organize 
these  matters  to  some  extent  befoi^hnnd  ;  and  a  aseful  step  in 
this  direction  has  been  taken  by  Captain  Darbv  of  tlie  Mnilsliam 
Volunteers  a  country  gentleman  of  Huftsex.  He  h.is  constructed 
ft  chart,  showing  the  farms  in  his  neighbourhood,  with  the 
mimbcr  of  horses,  oxen,  and  drivers  which  each  farmer  is  rcaily 
to  furnish  ;  and  on  the  occasion  of  the  Brighton  review  the  guns 
of  the  Hailshojn  Volunteers  were  brought  to  the  ground,  ami 

moved 


The  •  Volunteers  and  National  Defence. 


inovnl  tlirougbimt  the  clay,  by  carters  with,  long  whijts,   whii 
liMiketl  as  pleascilf  sturdy,  and  loyal,  in  their  iiuiock-rr(ii:ks,  at^^| 
any  utbcr  VulunCeers  uti  the  ground.  ^1 

Tbcro  is  a  very  general  opinion  among  them  at  the  preient 
time,  when  many  arc  wanting  new  nnifortns,  that  if  further  aid>i 
be  not  alfordtHl  by  thr  Guvf?niint>nt  ibrir  numbi-iii  wilt  diminisli./ 
Tlir  ri-]Kirt  ol'  tiw  Connnis»!tin,   vvhiih  is  now  <■u^aglnl  in  ruit 
siilcving  ibis  ami  utbcr'subji-iUi  connected  with  them,  will 
awaiteil  with  anxietj  ;  but  in  the  mean  time  their  strength 
happily  not  yet  decreased.      Compared  with  the  advantage  ol 
possessing  such  an  army,  any  extra  charge  to  the  nation  at  the 
rate  of  1/.  or  2/.  for  each  Volunteer  per  annum — the  former  bcii 
li'^ss   than  one-thini  of  the    cost   of  a  single   iron-plated  fri^ 
— would   be  insignificant;  and  .additional  assistance  should 
cautiously  rcndercHl  to  them,   more  on  their  own  account 
from  any  consideration  of  further  overburdening  the  public  rcvent 
to  Buch  an  amount.     The  Volunteer  estimates  may  be  expect 
to  increase  ;  but  fftcilitics  and  advantages  rather  than  direct  pecu- 
niary .lid  should  l>i;  afforded  to  the  different  corps.     TIic  more  tlieyl 
are  indeiK'tKlent  and  &elf-suppurting,  the  more  generally  will  theyl 
be  composed  of  men  of  that  class  which  it  is  most  dt^inible  to  sec 
in  their  ranks.      It  pay  were  given  to  the  individual    members  i| 
would  lower  their  tone,  and  cause  tlie  spirit  in  which  they  werej 
established   to  depart  from  them.     They  would  degenerate  inG 
local  militia,  and  come  more  umler  military'  control,  wliile  thai 
sum  to  be  shared  by  each  would  hardly  be  worth  his  receiWngj 
Their  chief  merit,  which  consists  in  the  loyal  feelings  which  theyf 
display,  would    be  lost  il    they  indulged  their  |>atriotism  at  tas 
expense  of  tin-  State, 

Any    pecuniary    assistance  which  it   may    be  considered  de- 
sirable    to   extend    to   them    (and  of    course    soch    assistance  i 
would    not    be  designed    to  supersede    voluntary   f»ntributior 
fnim    tlioHc    who    arc    unable    to    give    their    personal    serviccj 
should   Ik!  applietl  through  a  finnnrf^   committee  in  each  corps^l 
in  consultation    witli   iIuj  commanding  ufBoer,    and    under   GoJ 
vernmeut  supervision ;    and   it  should  be  given    in    projwrtit 
to  the  number  of  cflective  members.     The  diflercnt  metropulit 
and   provincial    corps    li.ive    all    their  own    peculiar    difHcultiet' 
to  contend  with.     The  former   often  want  !t|Mice  for  exercise,  the 
latter  concentration  for  tiuiaiiig.    Some  corps  have  dimo  wondetJi 
by    small    regular    suliscriplions    and    econumical    manHgrment,] 
while  others  are  in  poverty  with  ampler  resources.     .\id  to  thai 
extent  of  about  2/.  per  annum  for  each  effective  member  is  wliat ' 
they  would  now  be  satisAcil  with ;  and  there  i^  ccrtaiuly  mudi 

force 


i 


77/c  Volutiieera  tmd  Nutioitai  Deftnt^, 


Uh 


force  in  the  argument  that  the  officers  and  others,  after  convcrtiiift 
the  eiperiment,  as  they  have  done,  into  a  greiu  success,  nuglit 
now  to  be  relieved  from  the  heavv  expenses  which  tliej  have  in 
■away  rases  m  h)ja]ly  incurred  on  account  of  tlicir  men  or 
their  felloirs.  At  all  events,  all  the  ftirtlter  aid  that  can  Iw 
jtiven  in  assUtin^  them  to  obtain  drill-sheds^  excrcise-^ounds. 
rifli'-ranees,  and  practice-butts,  iti  convenient  situations,  will 
hi*  well  iM-stowcd.  Many  corps  have  siifierrd  materially  from  the 
want  of  tlie-so  Uiinjt^s;  thev  are  ex|irnsive  as  well  as  difficult 
to  obtain,  their  rnlue  amountini;-  in  the  a^ifrc^ate,  including  those 
tluLt  htvc  already  been  acquired  with  those  that  arc  still  much 
wanted,  to  upwards  of  a  million  of  money ;  and  they  are  perma- 
nent b>*neftts,  wlilrh  can  hanily  be  too  numerous,  or  too  much 
ilithised  thntuf^ltiiut  tin*  cciuiilrv',  M«)re  particularly  should  thi"? 
^'olunteer!:  lie  afl'mdi-d  (ipportuiiilics  for  field-tlays,  nTvlews,  and 
fil^hts,  as  well  as  encampments,  on  the  coa&t  and  inland, 

h  o  view  to  special  training  in  the  directions  which  wc  have 
ind  tented. 

\V*r  liMtk  forward  to  a  furtli(?r  system  of  or^'anir.iition  of  this 
description  as  the  next  ^rand  step  to  hi*  taken.  We  rejoice  t»i 
sec  the  VolunliHTs  and  the  fortifications  advancinj;  haiid-ii»-hand, 
and  shall  be  glad  to  find  them  ultimately  linked  together  in  a 
taimplete  scheme  of  ilefence,  after  the  manner  of  that  which  we 
have  depicted.  We  should  then  acquire  tliat  con6<lence  at  home 
ami  that  rr-spi'ct  abroad  which  are  so  nccpssnry  to  the  increase 
of  our  i-ommcrcial  j»n>ypcrity.  We  should  feel  less  tliat  the  vast 
extent  and  tempting  wcahh  of  our  empire,  whiidi  are  symptom* 
of  pre-eminence  in  peace,  were  sources  of  weakness  in  war.  Our 
metropolis  wcmld  not  ruipiux!  {wrmaticnt  works  for  its  defence. 
The  whole  island  would  tieeome  a  vast  fortress  strcure  at  all 
|toints.  TT»e  Volunteers  would  form  n  material  ]Mirt  of  its 
garrison.  Being  trained,  not  only  to  tlie  general  duties  uf  the 
soldier,  but  also  to  sjiecial  sor\'ices,  and  being  intrusted  with  indi- 
vidual responsibilities,  each  man  would  know  his  post  in  thc^ 
moment  of  danger,  and  repair  to  it.  He  would  feel  that  he  was 
usikting  in  hid  o%vn  selected  way  to  provide  for  the  defence  of 
his  country,  and  that  by  so  doing  he  was  responding  to  Ne1si>n*s 
Qoble  signal,  which  can  never  t»e  loti  often  quoted  or  too  exten- 
sively applied, — Exouvsd  expects  eveuy  man  to  im  his  duty. 


Vol.  112.— A"f'.  ?2.v. 


Akt. 


(    146    )' 


Aut.  V. — EnylUh  Poetrtf  from  Drtfden  to  Cotopgr. 

IN  B.  recent  paper  attention  wag  called  to  some  of  the  feat 
by  which  EnpHsh  poetry,  from  Chaucer  to  Milton,  Ii  cot 
trastr<l  with  that  of  imr  i»wn  ago.     Wo  then  dwelt  mninlr  on  th< 
peculiartticrs  cxbihited  hy  the  t-arly  Art,  its  limitations  and  U 
excellences,  without  much  inquiry  why   these   things  werc 
It  is  our  wish  here  to  notice  certain  further  aapectj  of  th^  sai 
interesting?  subject,  in  which  the  political  and  social  circ 
stances   of  the  country  during  the  century  and  half  followir 
lG6fl  will  bt;  found  to  hold  a  leading  pnaiiinn  as  causes  operatii 
on  the  career  nf  tlic  Knglish  Muses.     Fur  Poetry,  under  ner  oi 
peculiitr  laws,  is,  more  perhaps  tlian  any  utlier  pursuit  of  mai 
the  direct  reflection  of  the  spirit  of  every  ago  as  it  passes, 
mirror  she  holds  up  is  not  so  mucJi  to  Nature  at  large  as 
Human  Xature.     The  poet  is  indeeil  the  child  of  his  centni 
even  when,  in  tlio  fine  Tig^iro  of  Schiller,  he  returns  from 
dhication  under  a  Grecian  sl{y  to  tc-nch  and  t»  purify  it     Hi| 
Art  not  only  gives  hack  the   form  and  pressure  to  the  iMxly 
the  time,  but  is  itself  die  impersonation  of  its  mo«t  adva 
thought,  the  efflorescence  of  its  finest  spirit. 

In  our  brief  notice  of  the  writers  iiadcr  Ed^rard  III.  one 
Elizabeth  it  was  considered  suificicnt  to  indicate  this  identity] 
between  the  naliunal  anil  thr  poetic  life.  Every  one  feels  in-] 
stinctively  that  the  sjiirit  shown  in  the  rampai™ns  which  con-' 
uuered  half  France  in  one  retgn,  ami  founded  the  settlements' 
wluch  were  to  conquer  more  than  half  America  in  the  otho— 
the  spirit  which  animated  WjcklifTe  and  Bacon — apjKare*!  also 
in  Ciiaucer  ami  Sjwnser,  Sidney  and  Sliakespeare.  There  is 
a  congruity  pleasing  to  tlu-  imagination  Ix'tween  the  spIendt^l^H 
poetry  prnduceil  under  Klizaheth  and  her  successors  and  tli^H 
struggles  and  vigciur  of  their  times.  P<ieti'y  is  here  much  in- 
debb^d  to  history,  which  by  successive  ad^'anccs  has  revenled  to 
us  the  inner  worth  and  meaning  of  that  period.  Queen  EUa- 
licUi,  iiuleMJ,  lins  alwavs  retained  a  popularity  little  likely  (* 
think)  to  he  shaken  by  nnvattni-ks  of  sceptical  investigation;  D' 
the  Commonwealth  had  Iwen  loo  severely  judged,  ami  the  reall 
heroic  qualities  then  disulaywi  by  many  have  been  tardily  recog* 
niscd.  There  would  almost  seem  to  be  a  species  of  law  by 
which  tlw  latest  past  phase  in  national  thought  and  manDers^ 
like  the  latest  jiubt  fashion,  becotnes  especially  distasteful  in 
its  turn :  nor  sliall  we  escajje  this  fate.  Thus  English  ijoetr)-,, 
to  Johnson,  almost  begau  witli  Dryilen :  wliilst  hi  the  rritlrisnt' 
now  popular,  the  stream  seems  almost  stayed  after  Dryilen.    We 


I 

4 


think     1 


Englith  Poetry  from  Dry  den  to  Cowpn: 


147 


I 


I 


think  that  lliU  reaction  against  the  times  just  gone  by,  wSttt  which 
every  nnc  is  familinr,  hits  acconijjlish(>(l  its  purjmse;  tliaC  it  is 
tim*  to  conuder  the  ei^hte^iitli  rentury  in  n  n»jre  historicul 
tpirit,  Rskin^  how  far  the  poetical  tasto  tiwn  prcvdent  wai  the 
neccssfury  result  of  otiicr  ami  wider  causes,  nnd  how  far  it  per- 
formed a  useful  part  in  advancinir  the  national  mind.  Th«  law 
of  nntipnthv  nl>nve  notictil  appears  to  us  tn  have  done  injustice 
In  the  post-Kf^omtinn  lit^rulnrp  (which  for  convenience  *re  will 
dc5ne  lis  that  from  ItitJO  to  17Sft*),  nnd  to  that  which  followed  lo 
IHOO;  the  aims,  the  sj>irit,  and  the  circumstances  influencing 
the  writers  have  been,  in  consequence,  misstated  or  neglected. 
It  it  proposed  hew* — I.  To  examine  the  real  cnutct  of  the  change 
inaupinited  by  Dryden,  its  olijecls,  and  it*?  development  to  llie 
time  of  i*upp,  niilicinff  briefly  wlml  share  French  literature  and 
ancient  models  excrciMHi  over  Knjjlami ;  II,  To  trace  the  course 
of  the  modern  school  throu;;h  the  dilTerent  lines  into  which  it 
dire^es  under  George  1.,  and  lo  ]K>int  out  the  chief  links  that 
unite  the  style  of  this  century  with  its  predecessor.  We  believe 
it  may  be  proved  that  the  aim  of  the  first  writers  of  the  modem 
school  was  to  give  to  poetr>'  greater  clearness,  condensation,  and 
ctraighcforwarflness  of  style,  while  extending  its  range  to  new 
fields  ;  and  tliat  this  was  done,  not  nnder  diriH-t  foreign  influence, 
hut  in  obedience  to  a  general  movement  in  Kurupean  thought. 
In  our  later  pages  it  will  be  shown  bow  tins  triticnl  spirit 
(ijtened  the  wny  lor  bold  and  varied  experiments  in  noetry ; 
how  n  peculiarly  high  and  manly  tone  accompnnieil  these 
attempts ;  how,  after  a  tmnsitionnl  period,  when  new  an<l  old 
were  unconsciously  and  not  nlwoy*  happily  blended,  poetry 
burst  forth  in  the  more  splendid  and  complete  achievements 
of  uur  own  age.  It  may  be  seen  that  the  course  of  literature 
it  here  treated  as  necessary  and  natural,  personifif-d,  indeed, 
in  indiridoals.  yet  in  the  main  holding  on  in  an  irresistible 
current ;  sometimes  fed  only  by  its  own  rrwmrces,  sometimes 
widened  or  discoloured  by  external  influences;  sometimes,  as  it 
were,  returning  to  renew  itself  from  the  hmntuins  of  its  youth, 
.^nd  it  may  be  a  lesson  of  high  Miluc  if  the  render  derives 
from  the  survey  a  conviction  of  tliat  groat  truth  of  human 
progress  so  long  since  anticipated  by  the  imperial-souled  his- 
torian of  the  CiFSArs— that  '-uierc  is  a  kind  of  circle  in  things, 
through  which,  like  the  revolution  of  the  seasonal,  the  minds  and 
thoughts  of  men  pass  ;*  that  there  is  no  final  ji-ause,  or  canon  of 
the  jyrfect  and  the  complete  in  Art;  that  hence  moderation  in 
judgment  is  the  only  siife  and  wise  attitude  for  a  creature  whose 
intellect  seems  to  move,  onwards  and  with  increasing  pur|M>se 

L  2  indMrd, 


148 


EnifUsh  I'oetri/ 


indeed,    vet   ever   Uiruugli    the    spiral   orbit   of    surcessive 
actions.* 

I.  It  was,  wr  believ*',  tlirouj^h  tlie  |»oet  Soutliey — a  man 
M'lunn  it  may  bt*  now  not  improper  to  say  that  be  never  did  1' 
justice  to  any  one  ol'  hiamany  rt^markable  gifts — that  the  criticisi 
aroso  wbicli  speaks  nf  *thn  Fromh  sidiuul '  in  English  literatur 
This  appcnrs  to  us  an  ill-cbuiicii  and  niislnidinjj;  plirosc?. 
epithet  so  far  rt-prismts  tbu  truth  tliat  Cliarlcs  U.  had  lived 
I'ranci'.  that  he  received  pay  fioin  Lewis,  and  imported 
Whitehall  a  very  Eng;lish  imitation  of  Versailles;  that  sever 
of  die  court ier-WTitcrs  of  the  time  had  resided  or  travelled 
France ;  and  that  riench  pmw  and  iwetry,  tlicu  Ixr^inning  ibc 
course,  were  iu  tlic  bands  of  die  less  serious  jiortion  of 
literary  men  of  England.  .But  when  wc  turn  Co  our  liter 
ture  itself,  few  and  far  between  are  tlie  direct  proofs  of  thil 
foreig^n  influence.  Dryden  was  undoubtedly  the  leading  spiri 
in  the  new  style  :  but,  oxt-rpC  in  sume  of  liis  long-foi^ttcn  plu^'sj 
in  wluit  sense  can  the  author  of  the  'lliml  and  Panther,' 
'Abialom  and  Achltophel,'the  versifier  of  Chaucer  iind  Hoccaccit 
the  translator  nf  Virgil,  Juvenal,  and  I'lutarcb,  be  called  &  fol 
lower  of  the  French  school  ?  l*ass  on  from  the  first  of  th 
modern  stvie  to  tlic  latest  of  Uie  p(>st-licsb)rattou  poets.  Caa 
any  writer  \x-  more  characteristieally  English  tlian  Prior,  whether 
in  *  Alina,'  or  in  '  Solumon  '  ? — than  Pope  in  the  '  Essays '  or  tlii 
*Sntires'?  The  fact  is,  that  the  only  two  French  poets  who 
appear  distinctly  in  an  English  reflection  were  neither  of  theui 
men  whoso  »-orka  were  capable  of  any  far-reaching  influe-nce. 
X^ng  before  the  Restoration  we  have  the  brief  popularity  wluch 
attended  Sylvester's  translation  from  Du  Bartas ;  long  after  i 
the  vague  hinte  winch  Pope  tf>ok  from  Moileau  in  his  boyi 
'Essay  un  Criticism.'  A  lew  short  songs  and  epigrams,  trans- 
lated from  the  fashionable  vcniifierK  afutr  Malhrrbe,  occupy  the 
intenr'al.  If,  indeed,  those  who  have  familiarised  us  with  the 
idea  of  a  '  French  school '  bad  examined  the  contemporary  litera- 
ture of  France,  they  would  at  once  have  seen  that  diis  inlluentx* 
was  imaginary.  For  the  truth  is,  that  France,  during  the  earlier 
part  of  the  seventeL-nth  century,  was  distractcfl  by  civil  war  am 

•  We  have  heard  that,  iturinj?  the  Inat  yvtn  of  s  life  ffwnt  id  noble  otodin,; 
Mr.  nalbm  «iiiploycd  himiteU'  in  colli-vliuf;  nist«rialt  for  a  Hiitorf  of  PtaUw 
Opininn  daring  Ihu  ^ghtevuilt  Crntury.     it  U  niucli  to  be  detirml  that,  if 
pAftioa  of  ihis  was  (oi  wc  ln-licvi-)  mmmiltrd  to  pa|Mr,  ii  mifthi  bo  ghren  lo 
■world— to  ihow,  ire  should  nither  wy.  who  are  auffifieiitly  aboTe  lh«  «« 
unislitivs  aoil  |Kkrti«iwhips  to  Tuloe  '  the  one  wvight  and  tlie  oac  iprasttir,*  Ihi 
jast  judginetit  and  htgh-hcarced  palrioiUm  hy  which,  ■.■vi-n  more  than  by  hh  ~ 
knnwlcdi^e  acd  insight,  that  emiiu-iit  Eugliiihmau  vtu  dittuigniriiwl. 

eagtged 


My 
tbi 


frovi  Dryden  to  Chwper.  149 

engagtsd  in  that  downward  process  which  at  the  close  threatened 
to  leave  nothiDg  in  that  nob]e  country  between  the  huts  in 
which  the  peasantry  starved  and  the  palaces  where  the  Great 
King  was  adored  with  almost  Oriental  adulation.  Hence, 
after  the  cold  polish  of  Malherbe,  a  long  interval  occurs  until 
non-dramatic  poetry  was  revived,  by  curious  contrast,  in  the 
classicalism  of  Boileau  and  the  naivete  of  La  Fontaine — writers 
who  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  more  affected  England  than 
England  them.  Nor  even  in  the  drama  is  the  connexion  much 
closer.  What  likeness  lies  between  the  charming  delicacy  of 
Racine,  and  the  rampant  coarseness,  the  Spanish  exuberance, 
of  Dryden  ?  between  the  fine  spirit,  the  high  poetic  tone,  the 
deep  and  subtle  characterization  of  Moliere,  and  the  clever  cari- 
catures of  debauched  courtiers  and  countrypeople  in  Congreve 
and  Wycherley  ?  When  our  dram^ists  exhibited  excellence,  it 
was  not  as  children  of  Spain  or  France,  but  as  countrymen  of 
Marlowe  and  Fletcher ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  their  faults 
were  not  less  native. 

Some  theories  on  Poetry — in  fact,  the  first  crude  attempts  at 
criticism  —  were  the  only  distinct  post-Restoration  loan  from 
France.  Frmch  writers,  now  as  forgotten  as  Rymer,  who  formed 
his  treatise  on  them,  had  introduced  that  pseudo-classical  spirit 
which  took  the  laws  for  verse  (two  thousand  years  after  Aristotle) 
from  the  mistranslated  and  fragmentary  treatise  in  which  tliat 
great  critic  had  imperfectly  put  tc^ether,  not  an  Art  of  Poetry', 
bat  a  few  interesting  deductions  from  the  Drama  of  his  own  age. 
Even  the  views  thus  formed,  we  find,  from  the  curious  notes  pro- 
served  by  Garrick,*  were  disputed  by  Dryden,  with  arguments 
diat  do  more  credit  to  his  national  feeling  than  to  his  taste  or 
knowledge ;  nor,  except  '  Cato,'  was  any  play  we  know  of  con- 
tracted after  the  French  rules. 

We  diink  then  ^t  the  epithet  *  French  School '  is  as  little 
applicable  to  our  poetrv  from  Dryden  to  Pope  as  the  title 
*Angaatan  Age*  to  Addison's  cfmtemporaries.  Yet  the  name 
maika  a  change  cf  style  so  deep  as  to  appear,  if  typical  writers 
like  Spenier  and  Pope  are  compared,  almost  generic  Even  if 
we  take  poets  at  less  distant  internals,  the  difj^rence  in  manner 
between  rlerrick  and  Sedley  (contemporaries  during  nearlv  half 
dieir  lifetime  t)  i>  like  the  difference  which  we  often  pifrctrivc 
in  oar  Museums,  between  the  fossils  of  two  contiguous  strata. 
Yet,  nnlike  as  they  may  seem,  to  the  geologist's  ere  they  are 
closely  related  by  links  lying  perhaps  in  other  r^ions,  or  by  his 
knowledge  of  tiie   physical   causes  which  induced    consecutive 

*  Prntcd  at  dw  cad  of  Jobown't '  lift  of  Drvdcs.'  ia  Chtlmen'i  I'otU. 
t  Hcsriek,  1991-1«T4;  Sedkj,  1C39-1T01. 

formations. 


150 


English  Poftrtj 


jiirmntinits.     Turning  from  0»f  superficial  afjencie*  which  Mnke 
n  first  ti\\:\iX — what  are  tht"  lajger  undfilviup  Inwi  which  (^vprnrd 
Uiia  pn>^n's»  in  pootrv? — laws  in  which  we  shall   find  tlir  tniei 
history  of  chanj^cs  not   less  interesting'  rikI  importnnt  thnn  th 
traiuition  from  the  Mollusc  to  die  VcrtcbrntP.     There  if  a  rcftl' 
rpscIl]blaoc(^— onr  even  closer  thnn  has  hecii  iuiaftiiRfl — WtweeiL; 
our  jwist-Kestomtion  pocirv  awl  that  of  France.     Bui  the  g 
of  this  rcDOinblaiico  lies  in  the  whole  lone  of  niiml  that  the  \rnH: 
of  centuries  was   titen  crentiii}*    tliroiighout  all    the  couiitrti'S  i 
Europe  which  enjoyed  any  mental  fi-eedom.     The  sixtecjith  cc; 
lury  witnessed  the  outbreak  afrainst  the  intollectnal  and  mo 
system  of  the  middle  aj^s.     The  seventeenth  was  that  m  wbic 
(he  urw   opinions  gained   stability  and  a  fixed   sphere  in  pol 
tics;  and  having  accomplishe<l  this— in  the  Tliirtv  Vears'  Wa 
the  civil  disturlHinces  in  France  and  England,  and  the  extiucti 
of  jipanish   power  in  the  Netherlands — the  same  spirit  of  bol 
Doiibt  and  Inquiry-  ad*-anccd  into  remoter  regions  of  chou|Etht, 
tmnsfonned  itself  into  new  infiuences.     Witliin  this  century — 
skett-li  in  the  fewest  lines  a  revolution  which  has  never  vet  bee 
drawn  in  completeness — we  find  Astronomy  revealed  hvCinlih*a^l 
Descartes,  and   Newton;  Anatomy  by  Harvey  ;  Ilvdn»iitnt!cs  bj^ 
Boyle;  Mathematics  by  Napier,  Kepler,  lirigj^  Desrartes,  nndj 
otliers ;  the  beginnings  of  Botany  ami  Geology  under  Tournefort, 
Ray.  and  Bumet ;  tlie  first  systematic  recognition  of  science  by  th< 
foundation  of  the  Academy  of  France  and  the  Royal  Society  of  Eni 
land.     None  of  diese  noble  pursuits  can  be  without  nu  influence 
literature  ;    but  in  literature  itself  we  find  the  same  spirit — rr 
sented  in  philosophy  by  Bacon,  Pascal,  Malebraiu-be,  Desrartrs, 
Leibnitz,  Hoblys,  and   Locke;    in  language  and  scbol.-(r&hJ|)  \rf 
Scldcn,   Pocockc,   Grotius,  Voss,  Groiwvius,  and  Bentley:    n 
should  it  be  overlooked  that  to  this  century  belong  at  once 
writings  of  the  Casuists  nnd  of  Baylr — men  who,  starting  fro 
tlie  opposite  points  of  Credulity  anil  rif  Scentielsm,  en<led  tn  the 
same  attempt  to  reduce  under  system  the  'obstinate  (|uu«tionings' 
to   which  the  mind  of  man  could   no   longer  find  in  aniJiiirii 
nnd  tradition  satisfactory  answers.     We  have  not  here  8|)acc 
exemplify    in    detail    the    tangible   influence   exercise*!    by 
movement  over  Poetrv,  although  the  special  traces,  in  the  fo 
of  agrecmenl  or  antagonism,  are  clearly  written  on  the  works  of 
Cowley,    Dryden,    Butler,    Roscommon,    Prior,    Swift,    Addiu 
Pope,   and   almost  every-   versifier  of  the  age.     What  we  wou 
point  out  is,  the  common   bond  that  united  these  writer*  wi 
the   many    modes   of   knowledge   to  which   new  avenues    wi 
tlien  opened.    Tliis  may  be  summed  up  in  unc  word,  the 
of  Criticism.     A   truly  noblo  confidence  in  the  powers  man 

recctv 


from  Dryden  to  Cowper.  151 

received  from  his  Creator  led  the  serious  men  of  the  time  to 
doabt,  not  only  the  results,  but  the  methods  followed  by  their 
predecessors  in  pursuit  of  Truth — to  define  more  clearly  what 
fields  of  inquiry  are  free  to  man,  and  to  recognise  that  the 
Columns  of  Hercules,  if  anywhere,  were  in  regions  very  far 
distant, — to  inquire,  analyse,  and  define.  How  this  high-hearted 
spirit,  which  had  already  produced  in  France  such  brilliant 
aiid  enduring  effects,  was  there  repressed,  is  matter  of  history : 
it  is  one  of  the  few  triumphs  of  the  unlettered  and  vicious  king 
snmamed  the  Great  by  cruel  irony.  Bnt  we  need  not  pursue 
the  subject,  except  in  reference  to  our  own  country.  For,  this 
tone  of  thought  once  fully  taken  up,  England,  during  the  greater 
portion  of  the  eighteenth  century,  seemed  strangely  to  resume  her 
isolation,  and  work  out  her  problems  for  herself.  The  seas, 
bridged  for  a  time,  closed  round  he»  again,  and  the  course  of  our 
poetry  was  directed  almost  entirely  by  internal  influences,  until 
Scott  and  Coleridge,  looking  abroad  with  the  insight  of  genius, 
rediscovered  the  European  Muses  for  us  in  Schiller  and  Goethe. 
Let  us  now  examine  bow  the  predominance  of  this  critical 
spirit  necessitated  the  great  change  from  the  ancient  to  the 
modem  style.  It  was  die  glory  of  our  Elizabethan  poets  that 
they  clothed  in  verse  not  only  the  aims  and  passions  of  their  own 
time,  but  the  main  poetical  traditions  of  the  middle  ages,  over 
whi(^  they  were  able  to  cast  back  one  last  glance  as  the  world 
swept  on  and  quitted  that  stage  for  ever.  It  was,  as  we  have 
wen,  their  defect  that,  living  in  an  inexperienced  age,  they  were 
not  only  unable  to  discover  in  all  cases  the  fit  form  and  style  for 
each  subjeirt,  but  that — hampered  by  models  not  fully  onderstood, 
and  led  away  by  false  foreign  lights  and  the  desire  to  display 
iogenuity  and  leaming-^they  fell  into  the  g^ver  faults  of  conceit 
in  exjnression  and  caprice  of  thought ;  that  they  were  unable  fully 
to  break  in  the  language  to  poetry,  and  are  hence  full  of  ob- 
scurity ;  lasdy,  diat  their  own  prodigal  power  led  them  to  neglect 
that  fine  finish  and  perfection  of  work  which,  like  the  polish  on 
marble,  at  once  sets  off  and  gives  duration  to  Art.  The  recapi- 
tulmrifm  of  these  peculiarities  supplies  the  key  to  the  reaction 
which  occupied  their  successors.  To  give  clearness  to  language 
■nd  phdnness  to  thought ;  to  insist  on  the  vast  importance  of  Fmm 
and  of  Finish ;  to  bring  down  poetry,  as  Socrates  was  said  U* 
lave  attempted  for  philosophy,  from  heaven  to  earth ;  to  make 
her  cftpftble  of  representing  not  only  common  life,  but  the  interests 
of  the  day  in  science,  and  speculation,  and  politics ;  to  try  what 
modeiaritm  and  subdued  colour  might  do  for  this  art,  as  the 
former  age  what  could  be  effected  by  glow  and  by  enthusiasm : 

this 


ihU  waft  tlieiv  vucatioii.  It  would  be  impossible,  iwe  think. 
deny  the  lofty  purpose  of  this  aim.  or  to  overmtc  its  usefolnrss. 
So  far  from  brinp  agtiiiist  tin*  spirit  of  poetrv,  the  tpialitips  whii-Ii 
lliey  soug;ht  to  introdrice  had  flistin^uiiihnl  nhnost  all  ^irat 
writers.  Who  hoMs  tlin  tnirror  tu  the  whole  lifr  of  man  with 
more  tonatancy  than  Homor? — who  more  lucidly  clear  than 
Sophocles? — who,  to  judfre  from  niicient  accounts,  combined  so^ 
much  genius  with  so  much  reflection  of  tlie  manners  of  the  ilny™ 
ns  Arrhiloclius? — who  unitcil  ^intn;  with  satiie  so  iikilfully  as 
Aristophanes,  sjK>ak!nf;  for  himself  in  priKluctiuns  happily  extant  if 
— Nor,  to  quit  tiiai  gifted  race  whose  works, 

be  they  what  they  may, 

Are  yet  tlie  fountaiu-UHht  of  all  our  day, 
Are  yet  a  moMer-Ught  of  ull  tnu-  soeiug, — 

do  later  poets,  Catullus,  Horace,  and  Dnnte,  fail  to  present  the 
5nmc  qualities.    Yet  these  characteristics  are  on  the  whole  absent 
from  our  noii-ih^matic  Elizabetlian   verse.     Their  successors  bad 
thus   full  scope  for  the  revolution    they  effected  ;  nor  were  they 
unconscious  of  their  purpose.    *  Conceit  is  to  nature,'  says  Pope,  in 
an  early  letter, '  what  [laint  is  to  beauty.   There  is  a  certain  majesty 
in  simplicity  which  is  far  above  all  the  qunintneiis  of  wit,'    No 
one  will  assert  that  this  great  poet  was  eminent  in  the  best  simpti* 
city ;  but  from  faults  oi  obscurity  and  conceit,  from  ofleetatiun 
in  thought,  ami  from  trick  and  play  oti  words,  be  and  the  writers 
of  his  time  are  not  only  free  themselves,  but  (whilst  their  influ- 
ence lasted)  freed  our  litt^ratnrc.     Compare  the  style  of  Dryd 
the  leader  in  this  ehniiffe,  in  his  youthful  *  Annus  Mimbilis*  s 
in  his  *  Fables.'     Or  take  Cowley's  compliment  to  a  girl- 
Can  gohl,  alas  !  with  thco  comparo  i 
Tho  Kun  that  umktiB  it 's  not  sa  fair  ; 
The  Bnn,  which  can  nor  mako  nor  oror  soo 
A  tiling  £0  btjaatiful  or  thee, 
lu  oU  the  jourueys  lie  dues  pass. 
Though  tho  ka  served  Itim  for  a  lookiug-ghuw ! 

It  may  be  safely  said,  we   believe,  that  verses  in  this  artificial 
style  would  have  gained  little  honour  after  lt)GO,  and  fifty  ,>ca. 
later  would  have  Ix-vn  an  im|Kissibi1itv.     Close  anil  clear 
ing  in  verse,  again,  if  not  first  bnmglit  into  our  poetry  by  Dri-dm,' 
was,  in  liis  hamU.  lutrried  to  »  |>erfection  rarelv  since  ei|unl]rd, 
Davies'   '  Immorialitv  of  the  Soul'  has   been   bv   partial   critics 
reckone*l  amongst  the  Elizabethan  glories;  yet  a  comparison  will 
hardly  leave  room  to  doubt  that  his  style  is  diffuse,  prosaic,  and 
inferior  in  the   proper  f|unlities  of  didactic  verse   to 
Dryden.     From  thoughts  of  heavwi,  he  savs — 


_  from  Drydeit  to  Cotcj/er.   •  1 53 

the  bettor  hooIb  Aa  oft  dospiHo 
The  l)i>d>''B  ilcatb,  and  do  it  oft  desiro ; 
For  wbeu  on  grotmd  tbn  hunlon'd  Indaiicc  llC^ 
The  DUipty  iwit  is  lifted  up  the  higher. 

But  if  thii  hcMly's  death  the  huuI  nhoulil  kill, 
The  death  mttst  soede  against  her  nutiiro  be  ; 

And  wore  it  ho,  nil  souIh  would  fly  it  niiU, 
Fur  Katuru  hat«K  aud  kLuus  htir  L^uutrary. 

Doubtless  all  sonls  hnvo  a  tsannvinf;  thonght ; 

ThcN-'fore  ijf  doath  wo  think  wit)i  (luiui  miud  ; 
But  if  wc  think  of  being  tnm'd  to  nought, 

A  trombliiig  horror  in  our  souIk  we  Bnd. 

Comparr*  witli  tlits  snine  IincSi,  unci?  well   known,  and  deserving 

alwavs  to  be  WJ, — 

Hu|)u  humbly,  thtm  ;  with  tmmbling  piniimH  mur; 
Wait  the  great  teacher,  Dcatlt,  aud  God  wloro. 
What  future  bliss,  ho  giTes  not  tliee  to  know, 
Uut  givcG  that  ho{Hi  t4>  Ittt  thy  bluitaiiig  nnw. 
Hopv  springa  elemnl  in  thv  human  breast ; 
Man  never  Is,  hut  always  To  be  ble«t : 
The  aonl,  oiieafiy  and  coitfimid  frmn  hnmo, 
itL«ts  and  cxpatiateH  in  a  life  to  comt. 

Lo  the  pour  Indian  I  whotie  nutntur'd  mind 
SeeM  GikI  m  eluuds,  or  huant  Iiiin  in  the  wind  ; 
His  i»eul  proud  «cieuco  never  tjiugbt  to  stray 
Fm  ait  the  Bolar  Walk,  or  Milky  Way  : 
Tet  ainiplo  Nature  to  hih  h»t|R;  has  given. 
Behind  the  clond-topp'd  hill,  an  humbler  limvon ; 
Some  safer  world  in  (Icpth  of  wood^  onibraced, 
Some  happier  inland  in  the  watery  waste. 
To  be,  eont4zntK  his  nntuml  demrQ  ; 
lie  asks  no  angel'fi  wing,  no  Reraph'/  fire, 
But  think».  admitted  to  that  e>|ual  sky, 
His  faithful  dog  nhall  bear  him  company. 

And  if  the  nvidcr  now  mils  tii  mind  the  passaffc  in  which  the] 
love  of  life  is  dwelt  on  in  Cray's  *  Elegy,'  ho  will  sec  how  >ii«t  a^ 
goiu  it  has   been  to  uur  poetry  to  |>rss  through  the  critical  pro- 
cess, to  be  compelled  to  liiink  clearly  and  brieBy,  to  finish  accu- 
mlely,    to  take  up  into  itself,   in  a  word,  the   best  elements  of 
prose.      Let  imagination  ami  fancy  have  their  due  honours  ;  but 
bean  comme  la  prose  will  always  Ix>  tlie  last  and  highest  praise  of 
ihe  best  i^M'try.     Excepting  the  two  or  three  greatest  men,  neitheri 
tlie   Eliznbetlian  age,  nor  that  which  followed,  combineil  all  the] 
rsential   t|ualLties  uf  this  art.     But  the  faults  and  tlie  merits  of 
each  are  set  against  tlie  other,  and  a  more  complete  form  of  poetry 

was 


1 


was  only  rcmlercd  possible  by  the  transit  thnnigli  Uiesit  succr>ssi 
reactionory  stages. 

As  an  cssentini  aid  in  tbo  process  by  vbich  books  are  fitted  to 
train  and  to  rcpirsent  the  national  character,  this  movement  in  the 
form  or  technical  manner  of  verse  can  hardly  be  overrated.  But 
form  atui  contents  arc  inseparable  in  art,  nml  the  chnn^c  in 
regard  to  subject  and  mode  of  thought  is  not  less  marked  in  tlie 
post-Restoration  developmrnt.  It  was  a  neressary  rntuUtion  iif 
progress  that  poetry  should  not  only  intn«]uce  the  critical  spirit  ■ 
into  the  style  and  Btructtiro  of  verse,  but  into  the  matter  treated.  ■ 
Much  of  what  has  been  condemned  as  levity  or  even  as  irreli- 
gion  by  critics  who  overlooked  the  jrcneral  circtim stances  of  that 
age  was  simply  the  random  effort  of  an  inquiring  spirit  not  yet 
trained  by  experience,  but  conslrnined  to  a  just  pmtrst  against  that 
fainthearted  and  sentimenUil  nntiquarianism  of  which  we  find 
traires  in  Herrick,  Herbert,  I>onnc,  Crashaw,  and  other  writers  of 
the  first  half  of  the  seventeenth  cpjitury.  Here,  as  on  most  other 
points  of  advance,  we  find  Dryden  taking  the  lead  which  was 
natural  to  his  powerful  and  fertile  mind,  alUiougli  here,  it  must 
Ijc  owned  also,  he  seems  rather  to  give  the  literary  judgments  of 
a  rtfiuly-witted  gentlemnn  than  to  ^low  the  firm  grasp  of  science 
ur  theology  which  we  find  in  Lucretius  and  Duiitc.  Kxamples 
arp  contained  in  his  Epistles  to  Dr.  Chnrlcton  and  Lonl  Ko&- 
coromon.  Cowley's  nolde  address  to  I''rancis  Bacon  will  be 
known  to  many  of  our  readers.  It  should  be  compared  with 
Alitton's  half-unwilling  recognitiun  of  Galileo's  astronomy  and 
with  Butler's  satire  ngainstthe  Royal  SocietVi  petulant  and  petty, 
as  a  pn)nf  !i(iw  decisively  Science  had  now  begun  to  pass  into 
Song.  Amongiit  further  specimens  more  or  less  philosophical 
and  critical  we  may  name  Roscommon's  '  Essay  on  Ttansloted 
Verse,*  Pomfret's  'Reason,'  I'ameH's  *  Hermit,' Addison's 'Ac- 
count of  the  Poets,*  Shcliiold's  *  Lines  on  Hobbos,'  and  Prior's 
*  Alma ;'  until  the  school  of  Dryden  is  worthilv  clo»c«l  by  Pope 
in  tliosc  striking  'Kssays,'  for  the  contradictions  and  semJ-sonhis- 
tries  of  »vliicL  tlie  amazing  difficulties  of  the  subject  sliould  be 
rather  held  accountable  than  the  poet.  After  tlits  time  other 
general  changes,  to  be  noticed  in  their  order,  m^god  this  style  in 
Vmi  eomnmnly  spoken  of  ns  the  Didactic  style  of  the  last  centurr^J 
or  in  the  Fables  which  from  1700  onwards  were  for  sixty  of^ 
seventy  years  a  fashionable  element  in  puetrv. 

We  are  necessarily  unable  to  touch  on  more  than  a  few  of  ibft 
points  in  which  this  resolute  cRbrt  to  make  poetry  the  clear  ex* 
poncnt  of  the  leading  thoughts  of  the  day  was  exhibited,  fiat 
the  attempt  in  other  directions  is  equally  marked — we  should 
rather  say,  the  spirit  of  the  age  forced  itself  equally  on  verse — in 

such 


d 


from  Drtjdtn  to  Cowptr. 


155 


5ach  writings  as  Drydcn'i  clever  *  Art  of  Poetry ;'  in  tlie  |M>litical 
5atirf>»  whrrp  he  iK  easily  supreme  :  in  the  social  satires  by  whirl 
Pope  plai«<l  hiniKeir  at  least  on  a  level  with  his  master ;  in 
more  slririly  Whig  .inilTory  [xjeniB  of  Tirkell,  Swift^  and  Defoe  j 
in  the  useful  if  not  emijiently  successful  translations  wluch  from 
the  days  of  the  *  Virpil '  Rradually  supplied  uneducated  reader* 
with  some  knowletlpe  nf  old  unattainable  excellence.  Why  so 
much  of  tli«  poetry  here  glnncefl  at  is  known  only  to  those  who 
have  rer(^ni»Hl  that  acquaintance  witli  the  idAo/p  poetry  of  Kng:- 
land  is  essential  to  the  fair  training  of  an  Kn^'lish  mind,  we  shall 
presently  notice ;  bore,  as  final  proof  how  much  we  owe  to  our 
own  nndercsti mated  Restoration  Schoo],  we  will  point  out  the 
fate  of  iK>ctry  nmoug'rt  a  nation  n«rt  less  natni-ally  pifted  tlian  our 
own  botli  with  tlip  tnie  genius  of  wmg:  and  the  true  genius  of 
progress,  but  in  which  the  critical  spirit  underwent  a  too  sue- 
ceosful  repression. 

For  in  Italy,  ai   in   Kngland,  ixietry.  ha\-in^  in  the    Middle, 
Apes  piven  birth  to  a  few  works  of  high  excellence,  had   Uti 
dormant   till  the    movement  of   the   IGth  century.      What  the 
Klirahctlwn  writers  were  to  us,  Ariosto  nnd  Tnsso  were  then    to 
the  South — imliHMl   far   inwe,  for  their   fnniR  was  Kurnpenn,  the 
fntne  of  our   poets   confincil  tn   an  island  separated  from  Kurnpn 
by  the  political  results  of  the  Reformation.     Hut  whilst  witlt  ns 
Poetry  went   reioicing   on    her   ^vay,  rcBccting   nccutatoly    the 
jrn>wthof  knowledge  and  experience  as  wo  pass  {rvnn  Shnkespenre 
through  Miltr>n  to  Dryden  and  Pope,  and  drtrrmined  at  all  riski. 
not  ti>   nuit  hold    of  the  world  as  it  was,  Piwtry  in   Italy  sufTercdj 
the  blignt  which,  from  causes  lying   far   lark   in  her  history,  »j 
loon  oTcrspread  the  land  and  ruined  the  lair  proiiyse  of  the  CVn^i 
Cento.     Fatal  influences,  of  which  the  treatment  of  Galileo 
the  moat  significant  example,  triumphed  orer  the  free  growth 
the   human   mind  on   that  soil  where,  as  the  first  of  its  trul 
modern  poets  said,  '  the  plant  Man  grows  so  vigorously  ;'  spiritual  I 
■ml   temporal   tyranny  tlid   their   utmost  to    nrpress  diought    tn 
ever)'  njihere.      Any  activity  of  intellec:t  tliat  survived,    |N;trified, 
tnd  wasbfl  itself  in  a  ctmnge  imaginative  pedantr)'.     We  have 
already  ileacribed  the  poetry  of  Tasso  and  Ariosto  as  essentially 
niTVSjKtiive :  their  successors,  little  read  and  not  deserving  many 
Tmders,  siwm    lost  all    hold   on  the   mind  of  Italy  and  »f  I*)unipe 
by    rt'decting  only    the   leameil    trifling  of  the   academy   or  the 
cloister.       Their  names  are   s;(-nunymous    with    false    taste,   and 
weakness   of   thought^   and    classical    study  misapplied.      The 
titles  of  the  chief  works  of  Marini,  the  popular  poet  of  the  day, 
are  significant  of  that  ditmstrous  period  of  Italian  reaction — thei 
'  Adonis '   and   the   *  Slaughter  of   the   Innorents.'       Kven  these 

names 


nmnus  will  be  unfdiniUar  to  many  readers ;  the  names  of  luccecd 
tng  ptietns  are  practically  utiknown  until  that  long  sleep  under 
the  bigot  and  the  despot  was  broken  by  the  passionate  music  of 
Filicaja,  by  the  harali  trumpet-call  of  Alfieri.    E  jm  .... 

Why  is  it  then — to  re?turn  home — that  a  tone  of  censure  is 
cumnionly,  and  on  the  whole  with  considerable  justice,  applied 
to  the  poets,  who  were  not  onlv  called  iin|)eriously  by  ct'cnts  to 
perfonn  a  certain  work,  but  performed  it  with  so  much  ability? 
Tlic  present  distaste  for  these  writers  arises  in  part,  undoubtedly, 
Ironi  men-  prejudice,  ijfuorancc,  and  reaction.  But  still  wc  are 
compelled  lo  a^k,  why  is  Hallain*s  sentence  true,  that  the  reign 
of  William  111.,  the  central  |ierio(l  of  the  school,  Drydcn  ex- 
cepted, is  'our  nadir  in  works  of  imagination'?  We  think  the 
main  reason  is  invulve<l  in  the  nature  of  the  very  work  then 
undcrtiiken.  To  bring  literature  under  the  critical  spirit  wai 
essential,  if  it  was  to  march  evenly  with  the  ailvancc  of 
thonght,  There  is,  however,  a  sense  in  which  criticism  ami 
inquiry,  although  the  necessary  preludes  tj»  growth,  are  themselves 
rather  deatrurtive  or  Ktationarv  than  creative.  But  we  feel  above 
all  things  that  creation  is  the  proper  sphere  of  Art.  Agiin, 
although  poetry,  when  neglected  as  Art,  nms  almost  always  into 
diffuseness  and  rxlravngance,  yet  the  conscioii.i  study  iif  technical 
ixtints,  the  reference  to  Art  as  such,  have  often  a  dislienrtening 
and  chilling  cfTpct.  We  wish  for  results,  not  means — forgetting 
that  consideration  of  mejtns  is  at  times  essential  to  tlic  result 
desired.  Many  must  have  felt  this  even  in  the  case  of  one  whoH 
combined  judgment  and  crcativenesa  in  so  high  a  degree  nsGtiethe.^ 
Milton  ilefiufd  jMiptry  ns  'simple,  sensuous,  and  pnssionati'.'  Of 
these  elements,  it  was  simplicity  alone  (taken  in  a  wide  sensi',  as 
implying  the  pursuit  of  rnitli  besides  clearness  of  expression) 
which  the  post-Restoration  writers  aimed  at.  It  is,  however,  indis- 
putable that  natural  description,  an<l  the  predominance  of  inili- 
vidual  feeling  (sensuousness),  and  most  of  all  the  passions  them- 
selves, form  the  grc-it  hulk  of  what  the  world  always  liHiks  for  ijt] 
simg.  It  would  not  W  just  to  our  writers  to  say  that  they 
entirely  suppressed  these  elements  in  favour  of  th«we  which  cott-' 
licet  |K>ctry  with  thought  and  inquiry.  But,  finding  in  the  ]& 
their  chief  work  and  interest,  they  were  led  to  scparat*!  the 
imaginative  provinces  too  decisively  from  tlie  rest.  They  isi>- 
lated,  as  we  see  in  their  works,  the  ode,  or  song,  or  tmllad ;  and 
in  part,  by  consequence  of  this  separation,  they  met  wJlh  no  very 
eminent  success  in  thesL-  num-  stiictly  iMJCtical  regions.  It  ll 
however,  easy  to  understated  why  JJryden's  '  Alexander's  Feast 
wu  once  held  *lhc  finest  ode  in  the  language.*  If  compuod 
with  Spenwi^s  'Epithnlamion' or  Milton's  *  Nativity/  it  has  & 

cundensatitHi, 


I 
I 


(HI, 


from  Drydm  to  Oncper. 


197 


condensation,  a  ilirectness,  n  rleameas  in  form,  a  straightforward] 
power   of  phrase,  aiiil    dramntic  cliamrtpr,  wlufrli  not  nnlj  made' 
It  a   renl    advance,    Imt,  uiiiti^l   w'lOi   it*  vitrour  nnd   rpwmiinre, ' 
canc<?ale<I  its  deficiencies  in  imaginative  force,  praci-,  and  tnithi 
of  |»fision.     Let  the  reader  take   the  poems  just  named,  with 
Collins*  'Passions,'  Gray's  'Bard,'  Shelley's  'Ode  to  Liberty,* 
Wartlsworth's  on    '  Immnrtnlity,'  and  mark  in  these,  or  similar 
specimens,  tho  splendid  course  uf  nur  lyrical  pietr}'.      We  liQve, 
nrst,   simple   music  and    jKUssioii    iti   S]>enser ;  deejwr  times  and 
vfider  range  in  Milton  ;   then  the  clearness  and   greater  com- 
pletion,  ihouph    less  sntislWctory  executicm,  of  Drydnii ;  the  full 
IvricAl    sweetness  and  variety,  the  perfect  finish,  of  CotHus  and 
Grav  ;  lastly,  the  union  of  what  is  hest  in  these  qualities,   witH 
D  finer  insiirht  and  sweeter  depth,  in  tlic  jioets  whose*  names  araj 
ihe  household  delights  of  a  favoured  generation. 

The  predominance  of  the  didactic  ami  critical  tem]>er  is,  in 
onr  view,  tlie  main  n-ason  of  the  imperfect   interest  which   llu) 
poetry    of  the  period    muler   disrussion  awakens.       Hut  aniritlier 
rposon,  intimatt^Iy  connected  with  this,  must  be  noticed,  as,  lying 
on  the   siirnLTG  as  it  were  of  style,    it   lias  been  a  subject  of  fre- 
quent censure.     This  is  the  prevalence  of  a  false  and  shallowj 
classical  tone — often    iffuorantly  ascrilM*d  to  the  jwst-Restomtiot 
writers  as  a  peculiar  mark,  nlthoufrh   it  in   fact  colours  lilnKlisl 
poc^try  fftjui  tlie  days  of  Wyat  and  Surrey.      Vet  there  is  n  note- 
worthy distinction  between  this  early  classicalism  and  that  which, 
from  Dryden's  '  Sylvia  the  fair  *  to  the  *  Clarinda,  mistress  of  my 
soul  *  of  Burns,  infects,  so  far  as  our  experience  goes,  every  poet 
from  1500  to  ItfOO,  with  exception  of  that  very  small  number  of 
true    scholars — Milton.   Colliiis,    and    Gmv:    can    a    fourth    lie, 
ruldetl  ? — who    used    ancient    mater iaU    as    the    iincienls    mighl 
themselves  have  used  them.     The  early  classiralisui  ix  so  und< 
fuied  in  character,  sn  coloured  by  the  imaginative  and  personatj 
tone  then  prevalent,  that  it  hardly  aifects  us  with  a  acns«  of  cod*1 
Bcious   imitation,  except  where   mythological  or  pastoral  names! 
jiU"  on  the   reader  with   pedantic  associations.      It   is  very  ofleni 
simply   a  continuation  of   that  |M'cidiar    meilla>val    classical ii>m 
iu)|>elled  by  which  ("haucer  in   his   ' Troilus,'  or  Sjienser  in  his 
'  Epittialamioii,'  unconsciouslv  reproduced  the  spirit  that,  in  Art, 
clothed  the  warriors  of  tlic  '  Iliad  "  in  tJie  armour  of  the  crusjulcrs. 
Examples  occur  in  Shakespeare's  (sirlicr  plays:' — 

Gallop  ftpaoe,  yoo  fiery-footed  steeds, 
Towards  Pbdebn^  nuanon  :  such  a  wiiggonor 
Ah  Phai'ton  would  whip  yoii  to  the  wcwt, 
And  bring  in  cloudy  night  immediately. 

With 


Kngli$X  Poetry 

With  ih\a  clinrminfr  imlrtftif  of  Juliet  rontraat  latrr  rlRsiiimliRii 
in  its  dinVn'rit  slnt;es.  Orvden  thuft  colcbratej  Jnntrft  II.:  ho 
coin]Mres  him  to  Hercules  ;  but  let  that  pas«:— 

EView  then  n  muiiarch,  Hpuu'd  f<jr  ■  tlirciiiQ  I 
Alcidc«  thus  hiR  nice  hcgao ; 
w  O'er  infnacy  ho  Bwiftly  run ; 

W  Tlio  fatun>  god  at  first  vnu  moi%  than  man  t 

m  Duigcn  and  toils  and  Juno's  Iiatu 

m  Ev'd  o'er  hie  cmdlo  Uy  in  vrait, 

m  And  thoTu  hu  gmppled  &r>A  iritli  Fate. 

y  111  hint  ]'<:>iui^  luuidB  the  hiiwiiif;  toiAkcs  he  pre«t, 

So  QMiiy  yru  tho  deity  confoit    &c. 
Nexttho  laureate  Howe's  birthdav  otie,  in  171G: — 
:  Quoou  of  odours,  fiagiimt  May, 
For  tltis  hoim,  this  hiijipy  (hiy, 
Janufl  'nith  the  double  lACo 
^  Sball  to  Ihoo  ixtsigii  his  plaoo  ; 

B  Tliou  shalt  nilt!  m\h  better  gnvM : 

m  Time  from  thoo  shiUI  wait  his  doom, 

B        And  thou  shalt  load  tho  your  for  ovary  ago  to  como. 
W  Fiurcftt  month,  in  Oiesiu-  iirido  thc«.    Ac. 

Gray's  '  Address  to  Puetry '  miirks  a  mure  profound  schulurship, 
after  which  the  worn-out  Roman  clnssicalism  died  praiJuAlly. 
awuY  through  a  series  bt'  fcohle  versifiers,  until,  in  Bums,  it 
fliuhed  out  I'ur  n  moment  in  strange  eontmst  with  his  own  paro 

uutiinml  style : — 

yrben  biting  BMt»s,  fell  and  douro, 
fibarp-shircrs  thru'  thu  leaflcM  how'r, 
Whou  PhinliiiH  fjirs  a  xliort-lived  gUnr'r 
Far  south  the  lift- 


pa  ro 

i 


Wh&t  n  sinfTulnr  union  of  Ayrshire  and  Ausonia! 

This  |»><:uliiir  mannerism  was  in  itself  un  ofter-^vowth  from 
till"  inniulst-  towards  im|uiry  and  advance  which  underlies  all 
t>t]»ers  in  the  liti-ratuiv  alter  1060,  and  which  we  luive  traced  tu 
the  great  general  movement  of  the  Reformation  and  Renaissuice 
period.  Men  turned  to  the  writers  of  Greece  and  Rome,  as  pre- 
senting models  in  st\le  of  unequalled  perfection,  and  still  mor«oa 
acc<>unt  of  the  noble  cliDracteristics  of  frei'  tlnmght  and  uiuhnc^kled 
pxpresiiuu'  which,  far  beyond  any  other,  distiu^uiikh  tbe  clnssicnl. 
fntm  the  medicrval  literature.  But  the  want  of  Ciiinpamtivo 
seienre  in  history,  philosophy,  and  lanj^ua^e — of  which  mc  ara 
now  only  lie^inning  to  see  that  it  points  to  issues  not  less  nif>* 
nK-ntous  than  those  of  the  Ctm/ur-cerj^o  itself — rendered  the  earlier 

t-ri 


from  Dryden  to  CsKyj**". 


IS9 


critical  scbniiuvhtp,  espRciallv  in  all  matters  of  Art«  prcmatare 
■nil    pnrtinl.      It   Is  a  iluubtful   point  always  liow  Car  mtxlfls  ranj 
be  tuml  without  mk  of  tijtt    Uviii>(   ilcatli  uf  iitiitatinn  ;   but  heraj 
the  tnottrU  were  often  ill'choscn,  anil  always  im|)(^rfftctly  under- 1 
stood.     Hcnci?   tiip  deference  to    ancient   writers — often    rheto-l 
ricians  of  Becaod-mlc  merit — wliich  is  su  piomiuent  In  English 
portly    from    tbo    time    of   Charles    I.,    was,    in    tlio    main,    nn 
injurious   superstition.     The   enrlier    ami    swn-ter    ElizulH'tliua, 
classicaJism  rtsohcd  us  in  part  fri>m  Cbaucor  and  Uis  age,  in  part] 
from    Italy.     That  taste,  however,   struck  nu    permanent   ruot|( 
pwung  away  with  other  concf  its  and  fancies  under  the  sterner 
tbon^hta   aroused    by   civil    disscnston.       Milton    is   a   solitary 
fxamptc  of  the    piim    Italian    stylo   of  scholarship,   tlcrived    by 
himself,  in  arconlanre  nith  his  inajratie  anrl  self-iHoIated  nature, 
from  personal    studv  ^lul  from   residence   iii  tlic  tiuutli.     But  tlm 
renewed   or  modern    ctassicaltsm  was   unhappiiy  derived    from 
that  country  in  which,  through   inborn  antagonism  of  spirit,  the 
aorient    writers  lurve    been    less   understood   tlian    in  any  other 
rcfpoa  of  Europe.     In  the  liaoils  of  the   French  critics  of  the 
■eventernlh  and  eighteenth  centuries  tlic  greatness  of  Circek  and 
Homan  thought  disapjH-ars — th<--  simplicity    becomes    baldm-Bt,j 
the  taste  frivolity,  the  rules  of  style  jiedantry.     'ITio  imaginatioaj 
of  Shak(*speare   himself  could  hardly  conceive   a   mind    mt 
upposMl  to  the  Athenian  mind  than  IJoileau's.     Yet  Roileau 
the  dictator  of  French  taste.      It  must,  however,  here  suflice  to' 
Ipvo  this  general  indication,  cloHing  our  mmnrks  nn  the  first 
portion    of   onr    siiliject  witli    a    few  words   on   another  charge 
igainst     the    post-Restoration    literature.      The     censure    wliich 
Mcrihcs  n  peculiar  effrontery  of  manners  and  cynical  indecency 
to    these    writers    is    hanlly    bftt<T    founded    than     that    wlirch 
clasars    tlicm    all    as    of   the    *  French    School.'      It    can    Ih;    no 
secret    to  nnv  student  of  our  older  litemture  that  a  delight   ia 
coarseness  (often  sumamed  plainspeaking  of  honest  feelings),  odtii 
oi*er-frredom  in  tone,  are  no  special  heritage  of  die  poets  iK'twiHm 
DryUen  and  I'opc.     The  contrast  often  drawn  between  the  plain- 
Om  of  the  Klizabnlhan  ago  and  tlic  levity  of  the   Restoration   is 
Dot  much  more  than  a  moiln  of  expressing  the  superficial  diHi-r- 
tSK^  of  then  fasliionable  mnnnr-rs.      In  fact,  the  gri-at  mass  of  our ' 
nnn-^lrainatic  jioetry  through  the  whole  period  is  jtetfectly  fitted  I 
still  iirr) ini fills pufTtapie, — could  it  iioy  loDger  attract  such  reader*. ! 
II.   Asdorint;  tbesisty  year&dating  from  11)60  Englinh  tlioiight, 
and  hence  EngUsliiJuetrv,  had  been  mainly  nflccted  by  general  inllu- 
CQces  acting  on  all   Europe,  ho  during  tlw  next  sixty  England 
in  a  great  degree  8lon<l  njmrt  from   lu-r    ncighl^ours.     At  fir»t 
the  «levcIopmenl  of  the  country  on  the  re-establish  moot  of  |>e,ire 

occu.\tvcd 


Erylislt  Poetry 

occupied  all  ntteiition.  Tlicn  fidlnwrd  anotlirr  lime  of  war,  but 
of  war  mrritKl  iiii  in  iHstant  lands,  lit  first  nitli  suttt-ss,  latrr  widi 
nntifinnl  liiiii) illation.  iVlciiinvliiU-  tlic  course  of  things  in  Kumpc 
was  rapidly  It-iiding  tu  that  viuleot  ntnig'^le  betwet^u  tiie  old  wavs 
of  thoupht  and  the  new  which  rxprcsBe<l  itself  in  the  first  I'Vcnch 
Rcvohitioii ;  and  pven  I>eforc  the  reaction  of  distinrt  t'dntJncDta] 
influences  set  in,  the  same  eoulirst  vtas  unconsciouslj  raised  in 
England  betwcf-ii  die  stationary  and  the  advancing  elements  in 
it*lt):fion,  trade,  agriculture,  and  at  last  politics.  The  tiationul  intel- 
lect, which  during  the  first  half  of  this  pcriwl  hatl  been  exer- 
cised in  the  moral  and  philosophirnl  speculations  of  the  Deists  and 
their  antagonists,  now  (|uitled  tliis  teni|Mirar)ly  (exhausted  Held. 
Turning  again  to  matters  less  tlieorctical,  it  embodied  it^iclf  in 
the  great  tliscoverers  who,  stimulated  and  aided  by  French  and 
German  prinleccssors  and  contemporarie!),  pushed  far  and  wide 
the  domain  of  science  ;  protluced  in  religion  the  practical  revi%al 
of  which  the  force  is  in  full  n|>eratiou  yet ;  in  politics,  the  school 
of  Burke  and  Fox;  in  pniiticol  economy,  the  school  of  8nuth, 
MaltliHS,  and  Uirardo.  Inquiries  into  the  relations  between  ihe 
ranks  of  thfi  community,  leading  to  a  dpt;per  experience  of  the 
state  of  the  labouring  classes,  were  a  natural  result  of  tlie«e 
adranccs;  nor  should  it  be  overlooked  that  the  growth  of  pro«- 
perity  and  wealth  was  accompanied  by  a  rapidly  developed  lore 
of  travelling  which,  limited  at  first  to  Kngiand,  even  then  pro- 
ducetl  a  reverential  love  and  stiuly  of  nature,  not  only  renewing 
the  sentiment  of  Chaucer  and  Spenser,  but  allying  it  with  a  wider 
survey  of  the  landscape. 

FrejKired,  according  to  our  belief,  by  the  labour  of  preceding 
poets  to  express  nliatever  in  bum.in  life  and  interests  was  capable 
of  Metrical  ntpression,  Poetry  reflected  nil  these  various  tendencies 
nnd  made  tliem  iiior<5  or  l(*s  her  own.  Hence  the  broken  and 
diversified  character  of  the  Georgian  literature,  the  vast  interval 
not  only  between  such  poets  as  Addison  and  Cmbbe,  but  between 
contcm])oraneous  writers,  between  Poiie  and  Collins,  Uums  and 
Cow|)er.  For  it  was  an  age  niit  only  of  sjiontaneous  transition^  but 
of  bidd  exiK-riment ;  and,  as  ever  luLp|H>ii3,  «-lien  new  ways  are  tried, 
tlie  issues  lo  which  men  were  working  were  hid  from  them  wjtli 
more  than  the  common  obscarity.  Perhaps  no  century  since  the 
Koman  cuii(|uest  has  presented  so  great  a  change  ns  that  which 
lies  between  the  England  at  war  with  Louis  XIV.  and  the  Eng- 
land at  war  willi  the  First  Consul  of  Frniice.  Hence  also  the 
pnetrv  of  tliat  age  has  an  unsatisfactory  clmmetcr  from  want  of  A 
uniform  tone.  \Vc  cannot  speak  of  it  as  we  do  of  the  Klixa> 
liedian  ;  it  has  not  that  singleness  of  colouring  which  plea»(rs  ns 
in  most  well-markeil  ages  of  song.       Nor  amidst   these  many 

Attempts 


from  Drtfdm  to  Cmepcr. 


161 


Biterapts  cuultl  there  l»e  invariable  success ;  tliL-  nt-w  wns 
mixed  imcitiisciuusly  aiul  inhuimuniouslv  witli  the  ultl,  aiul  the 
old  retaiaed  a  strange  grasp  over  what  was  essentially  anlike  it. 
KsiK-cially  ii  this  true  of  the  poetic  Hictiun  ol'  tlic  last  century, 
which,  thiiugh  from  a  diifercnt  cause,  was  as  unequal  tu  express 
•Titers'  conceptions  as  the  Elizabethan.  Conventional  phriuies, 
and  n-itliOiein  artificial  style  (for  words  often  rule  thoughls),  dis- 
£|*-urc  cver>-  writer  from  Gay  to  Bums ;  nor  can  more  curious  in- 
StaufX's  of  this  conflict  of  manners  l)c  found  than  those  with  which 
the  pact  last  named  has  familiarized  us  in  almost  every  one  of 
liis  pieces.  Vet  this  disguise  of  style  should  nut  blind  us  to  tlie 
ticw  life  which  was  <'(iiii|)eMed  bv  iirrsistible  taws  for  a  time  tu 
ntnceal  itself  beneath  the  vesture  of  mannerism  ;  nor  must  it  be 
forgotten  that  the  present  age  has  its  own  cunvcntiaualLties  of 
diction  not  less  distant  from  truth  and  simplicity  than  the  cen- 
tury which  pniccded  it. 

VVe  will  name  some  leiuling  instances  nf  thcsi'  many  roads 
attempted,  iu  all  which  xve  most  desire  emphaticidiv  to  jioint  out 
that  poetry  but  followed  the  ways  already  "jiened  by  the  spirit 
of  the  age.  The  domestic  feuds  of  the'  time  when  ministerial 
and  parliamentary  government  was  established  appear  in  Swift; 
the  current  tlieological  and  moral  speculation  in  P(i])c  and 
Pamell  ;  the  (M*are  and  commiTCial  advance  under  wise  Walpole 
are  emtMHlied  in  die  illdactic  virrse  «if  Dyer  an«l  CJniinger,  Somer- 
vile  anil  Thomwm  ;  Watts  marks  thir  bcgimiiiig  of  the  religious 
change  of  which  Cowper  represents  the  maturity.  The  influences 
nf  Nature  on  Poctrv  reappear  in  f»niy,  W'arton,  and  Durns ; 
furei^i  travelling  yields  its  first^fruita  in  Goldsmith  ;  Gay  gave 
pictures  from  common  life,  viewed  from  the  side  of  sentiment, 
Ciabbc  under  the  influence  of  sotial  ectmomy.  Xor  are  trares  of 
the  more  general  currents  aflecdng  politics  and  manners  absent, 
nithougli  lliesc  cannot  Im;  so  individually  sjKcificd,  and  were  not 
Bern  in  their  whole  strengdi  before  our  own  century. 

Having  thus  broadly  sketched  out  the  course  of  poetry  from 
1720,  we  will  discuss  in  more  detail  some  principal  features, 
taking  tliem,  so  far  as  practicable,  in  chronological  order. 

It  is  a  common  phrase  to  speak  of  Puik  and  his  followers. 
Except  with  reference  to  the  [wculiai:  type  which  he  impressed 
OQ  the  ten-syllable  couplet,  we  think  the  phmse  conveys  an  idea 
opposed  to  the  facts.  In  regard  to  subjects  ami  m(Hh*  of  thought 
— Ut  almost  all  Iwit  the  mere  su|>LTficies  of  style — Pope  it  rather 
tlic  last  of  a  school  than  the  founder  of  a  new  manner.  His 
uibjects,  it  will  be  enough  simply  co  remark,  belong  aluuist  ex- 
clusively to  theclass  familiar  to  the  post-He^tonttiou  writers;  and, 
niTvelloiis  as  is  the  perfection  of  his  treatment,  they  present  little 
\\A.  \U.—j\u.  2J3.  U  VwA. 


182  Enffiisk  Poetry 

but  the  consummation  of  jirevimis  tcmlt-ncins,  if  wc  rxrrpl  the 
'  Rape  of  the  L>(K-k,*  M'liirh  stands  single  iii  our  litrratiirt*.      Hl<j 
audietict*  xnevv.  tbn  rlirpint  and  t)ie  witty,  uiid  it  iit  uU  tliriii  ami 
iheir  modes  of  artiiip'  or  thinking  that  his  Satirei  turn.     Indeed 
we  art)  inclined  to  go  farther,  and  to  consider  Pope  as  io  manj 
respects  the  representative  of  a  st^te  Bnti()uatetl  hy  the  lime 
liis  death  in  1744.      For  not  nnl^  is  he  the  last  ctmspirnous  wri 
whose  genera]  tone  and  sphere  of  work  are  drawn  from  rourti 
life,   but  he  hjn;jj  uutHved  Oic  development*  in  poetiy  niread 
beginning.    The  popular  sons'  "s  exhibited  by  Oay.  the  politici 
pamphlet  of  Swift,  the  description  of  Nature  by  Thomson, — a 
find  no  representation    io  the  ptiet  of  Thames-side  ;  indeed, 
sneer  (or  what  is  meant  to  bn  such)  in  ^Scriblrrus'  is  jmlnahl 
directed  ag^ainst  the  'Sfiisons.'     It  is  not,  uf  course,  deniiil  tl 
this  j^eat  wTiter  found  some  direct  imitators;    but   (except 
regards  his  versifitation)  those  who  made  him   their  model 
now  with  the  many  antagonists  whose  names — names  only  to 
— are  preseivcd  in  his  own  brilliant  cuuplrts.     Aroonpst  iJn 
who  would  have   calleil    themaclv(!S   of  his   school,   J^hnaon 
perhaps  the  most  distinguished;    yet   in  the  'London' and 
•  Human  Wishes '  wc  feel  at  once  that  we  have  left  the  courti 
ami  cultivated  sphere  of  life;  or  rather,  tliat  wc  are  in  prescn 
of  one  who  painted  and  scorned  tbem  from  the  opposite  vantag&-| 
ground  of  noble  Poverty.     Parncll  again — whose  works  Po 
edited — and  Gay,  who  was  his  frieml,  would  have  ranked  theu 
selves,  in  the  old  phrase,  aa  *  Ihiise  alxmt  Alexander/     Yet  fro 
Parnell  we  might  quote  passages  in  a  style  gtrniTienlly  distinc 
from  Pope's;   and  m  Gay's  haiuls  we  find  the  rustic  life  forcin^ 
itself,  against  the  author's  will,  into  what  he  intended  aa  bur* 
lesque  {Muttomls;  whilst  in   tlie  work  chiefly  associated  with  hii 
name  he  frankly  ubnndonetl  his  master's  ways  to  tell  tlip  career 
of  Machcath  and    Polly.      Pass  un  a  few  years,  and  we  see  the 
same  law  of  subordination  to  the  apiiit  of  tltc  ago  compelling 
saccessively  three  men  who  uiidi>ubtcdly  looked  to  the  author  of 
the  Satire*  and  the  Essays  as  tbeir  model  for  more  than  metre, 
to  treat  subjects  as  alien  fnini  Pop<?  n-t  the  rockwork  of  bis  Grotto 
was  from  the  boulders  of  Dartinrwir  or  Cader  Idris.     Poems  tuch 
as  Gold-smith's  *  Village  *  and  *  Traveller,'  Crabbe's  '  Tales  '  and 
'Register,'  Cowpcr's  '  Faith,'  are  not  only  remote  from  *  Kloiu* 
or  the  'Rape:'  they  are  poems  which,  except  by  miracle,  could 
not  have  been  cvpri  thought  oi  during  the  prevalence  of  tli»l 
school  of  which  Pope  is  the  must  6nishcd  rcprcjicnlative.     And 
lastly,  to  take  timL-^  which  ain  nhnnst  our  own,  what  morp  for- 
cible exemplification  of  our  view  could  be  found  than  that  whic 
arises  from  comparing  the  criticism  and  the  pmetice  uf  Bttc 

—the' 


from  JDn/flen  to  Ci»rper, 


1(53 


— ihe  bijvlsli  iniTtntiuD  of  the  '  Bards  Bni!  Hrvipwors/  and  tlie 
mapnificpiit  <»rigiiialitv  of  tlie  'Chiltle  Ilarulir  ?  *  Tin*  disciples 
of  P«p<*,*  says  Byron  in  1820,  '  w(*rc  Jolmsou,  Goldsmilh,  Rogers, 
CampDeU,  Crabbe,  Giffortl,  AUtthias,  HnrleVi  and  the  author  of 
the  '  Paradise  of  Coquettes.'  Who  this  last  disciple  was  vrc  arc 
certainly  ignorant ;  but  it  may  be  feared  that  Pope  would  have 
grrm  mm  a  niche,  with  Mayley  and  Matthias,  in  that  poem 
which  unu  Dot  ronsccmted  lo  the  oelebrntion  of  j^pniua.  Nothing 
but  the  form  of  verse  connwts  tlie  five  firat-naniwl  with  him  in 
any  rnU  sense,  and  Mr.  Darwin  himsolf  would  be  perplexed  to 
trace  the  development  of  '  Hohcnlinden '  from  the  *  Essay  on 
Man '  or  the  '  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day.' — But  we  should  not 
hmve  thtmgbt  it  necessary  to  dwell  on  this  point  if  the  inrorrcrt 
nhnuM  of  tlie  *  school '  and  '  influence  '  of  Pope  were  not  so 
rreqiipnt  in  our  critical  literature. 

All  would  aprce  that  attempts  in  the  epic  and  didactic  stylo 
are  a   lending  feature  in  the  poctiy  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Milton's  —  the   one    strictly  modern    poem  of  the    kind  which 
raolis  with  the  great  masterpieces  of  old-A-wns  followed  by  n  few 
essays   tn  the   religious   manner — Blnckmore's    *  Creation  *   and 
Prior's  'Solomon.'     Tliis  w.-w  soon  transformnd  into  tlie  didactic, 
in   accordance  witli  tlie  undramatic  and  practically  inquisitive 
spirit  of  the  day,  which  marks  strongly  the  subjects  now  chosen 
in    Phillips's   'Cider'    (published    1706),   Thomson's   'Seasons* 
(1726),  Snmmile's  'Chase* (1735),  Young's  'Tlmughts*  (1742), 
Akenside's  *  Imagination  '  (1744),  Dver's  '  Fleece  '  (1767),  and 
Orainffrfr's  *  Siig.ir-Canc  *  (17G4).      Tlie  very   titles   suggest   at 
oDce  the  new  lines  into  which  the  application  of  rerse  to  actual 
life  bad  led  lincHsh  writers.    Of  Thomson's  work  we  shall  speak 
pmently ;  it  will  be  enough  here  to  add  that  Young  is  the  only 
on*  who   is  strongly  tinged   by  the   tone   of  the  *  Angusbin  age,' 
and  that  Akensidc  exi'mplifies  another  rharactiTistic  of  the  limn 
alrrndy  noticed.     With  Smith's  '  Phrrdra,'  and  the  *  Leonidas ' 
and    *Aihenaid'  of  Glover,   Akensidc's    poetry  represents    the 
ailruicc   of  our    classical   scboLirship  from  Roman    models  to 
Oreck,    combined    with    the  speculative   admiration    of  political 
liberty    to   which    Burke,   tmtil    the    close   of    his    career,    gave, 
npressinn   in  PartiamenL      It  Cannot  he  said  that  these  poems 
hare    escaped    tin"    common    <loom   of   imitative   works ;    yet 
Akensidc  possesses  force  and  nobleness  of  thought,  and  Glover  a 
fine  spirit  and  enthusiasm  which  remler  the  conlrmporary  reputa- 
tion of  *Lconidn»'  iiilclligibir.      But  in   Ixjth  <  ases   tlie  themes 
chosen    must    Im-  confessed  greater  than   tho  pods,  although  tlteii 
nimprfsitions  deserve  and  reward  tlic  attention  of  intelligent  readers. 
We  have  alrejidy  ubser^-fd  that  much  of  the  strictly  mor&l 

.M  2  \«we 


it>4  £Hffluk  Poetry 

vcrsfl  nf  the  pm-ifNl  tfwk  thn  unfortunate  direction  of  thn  Ciblc 
u  form  n(  writinjj^  wliicrh  only  the  finnst  skill  and  ta&tc  can 
ri'det'in — if  it  ever  bo  r«Mlet*incd — fntin  insipidity.  On  tHl 
point,  and  on  the  elaborate  IjTifA]  poetry,  we  newl  not  cn)u;ge  J^ 
nor  would  tlie  reader  be  thankful  for  details  regurding  the  vast 
flood  of  orcasional  verse,  epistles,  satiii-s,  cpigraui&)  humorous] 
niumtt%'c,  and  trivial  dittiis  and  ballads,  which  fill  our  collections 
with  sketches  of  the  timo  so  Uvely  that  »ve  should  deeply  regret 
to  lose  as  history  what  is  raiely  of  much  value  as  song.  These, 
like  the  fables,  represent  less  the  advancing  and  the  moral  clc^ 
ments  tlian  lemiHirary  feelings,  or  heloug  t(i  the  styh^  which  wa» 
passing  away.  They  are  precious  for  Uhistration  of  manners  and 
lor  indications  of  the  progress  of  thought,  but  except  for  such 
purposes  their  slumber  is  little  likely  to  be  broken.  Indeed,  the 
general  knowWIge  that  the  mass  exists  and  fills  long  shelves  m 
tile  vast  collections  of  Johnson  and  Chalmers  has  been  a  seriou* 
cause  of  the  indifTerence  towards  the  poetry  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Yet  it  will  not  he  doubted  by  those  who  in  an  im- 
partial spirit  have  gone,  through  the  body  of  our  earlier  literature, 
that  the  amount  of  merely  mechanical  verse  bore  as  large  a 
pi'upi>rli(m  to  the  whole  produced  during  the  period  concluding 
with  (he  Kestorattun  as  during  the  later  jtcriod  of  which  wn  are  now 
S|K'aking ;  nor  can  we  resist  thf  fear  that  tlie  series  embracing  our 
own  age — should  so  vast  a  galhering  ever  be  made — will  presfnl 
a  similar  aspect  to  the  bewildered  students  of  the  coming  century. 
Let  us  turn  from  the  less  interesting  survey  of  the  subjects  in 
which  tlicse  pjets  only  imitated  their  predecessors  to  the  new  tracks 
of  thought  and  manner  by  which  tliey  are  eonnecled  with  us. 
Man,  as  a  f^reature  uf  jia^sidn,  had  Ix-en  tlie  tlieme  of  tlie  Kliza- 
bcthaa  writers  ;  Man,  in  relation  to  intellect  and  to  society,  of 
those  who  followed.  These,  of  course,  arc  broad  general  out- 
lini-a  ;  nor,  when  we  refer  to  the  eighteenth  century  as  the  first 
whifh  Ix-gaii  tliat  free  study  of  Nature  and  hnr  of  description 
for  itself  which  has  been  carrieil  to  results  so  marvellous  in  uur 
own,  is  it  to  be  understood,  a&  some  have  too  absolutely  phrased 
it,  that  the  interests  of  Man  are  wanting  in  our  recent  poetry,  or 
of  Nature  in  tlml  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Yet  if  we  think  of  ■ 
such  contrasts  as  the  landscajH'of  Fa|K-'s  '  Paiitorals'  or  Addiscm'ft^ri 
'  Italy '  and  t!iat  of  Shelley's  *  Prometheus  *  or  Wordsworth's^^ 
'  Kudl,*  we  can  hardly  escape  feeling  that  we  have  passed  into 
another  and  a  larger  world,  where  the  great  elementary  fcaturrs 
of  the  universe,  *the  common  sun,  the  air,  the  skies*- — sources  of 
so  ranch  happiness  and  of  so  much  of  that  best  wisdom  which 
comes  through  happiness — are  again  restored  to  man.  It  is  a 
cliangc  which  seems  to  give  us  almost  a  regained  paradise: 
^.  wheu^J 


i 


from  Drjfden  to  Cotcper. 


165 


whpii  we  reach  this  turning-point  in  our  literature  vc  arc  aware, 
in  the  wopIs  nf  the  immortal  poet  wlio  of  all  poets  xvmjxtthiKcd 
most  intens«l_v  ani)  must  widely  with  the  soul  of  Nature,  that 
'Spring  is  coming,  ami  Love,  anrl  the  winged  Zephyr,  herald  of 
8prin».  runs  before,  and  Flora,  in  the  track  of  their  course,  scatters 
tlie  whole  |Kithway  for  us  with  the  perfection  of  scent  nod  the 
fullness  of  colour:*- — 

It  Ver,  ot  Ventu,  et  Yens  pranaiitius  imto 
Peuimtuft  (^raditnr  Zephyrns,  Te«tigia  propter 
Flom  qtiibus  mal*r  iincspargoiia  aiitc  viai 
OuDcta  culoribof!  egrcgiis  ct  oduribna  opplet.* 

fh.  Quitting  such  thoughts  on  Natin-c  and  her  'Irnppv- 
^■ight,'  let  us  descend  to  criticism,  and  examine  by  what' 
slow  steps  this  glorious  element  of  poetry  was  expnmled  io  a 
splendour  Iwfore  which  the  primitive  efi<>rtii<ifaliundmlyejirs since 
imw  appear  ffohlp  and  colourless.  Passing  by  the  few  hut  admirahlf* 
lines  of  Ladv  Winc'lirlsca,  thi.*  first  distinct  natural  descriptions 
appear  to  he  Thomson's  'Seasons'  ( 172t}-1730),  and  Dyer's 
'firongnr  Hill,'  which  (we  suppose  with  his  'Walk  *)  was  pub- 
Itslird  in  1727.  Looking  to  the  former,  we  may  perliajK  say  that 
nil  real  jKret  has  left  less  satisfactory  poetry  than  Tliumsuii.  His 
great  work  is  a  compromise  Iietween  Virgil  misunderstuftd,  the 
psGudn-idvlltc  style  of  l'«>jie,  the  [Mmp  of  *  Paradise  L<j»t,*  ami 
Lis  own  true  and  delicate  observatiun  of  Nature. 

Gnat  Bxo  the  scenes,  with  dreadful  beauty  crowned 

And  barlnrotm  wealth,  tliat  hw,  ciicli  eircliug  yi^ur, 

Bctamiiig  suiiH  aud  doublu  seasons  paiis: 

Kucks  rich  iu  gums,  and  moantains  big  with  mines, 

That  uu  the  high  equator  ridgy  rise, 

Whonoo  Diany  a  btir»tiug  stream  aoriferous  plays : 

l^jeetic  woods,  of  everj-  vigorous  green, 

Stage  abovo  stago,  high  waTiiig  nVr  tim  bills.  .  . 

Boar  mc,  Pomona,  to  thy  citron  groves, 

To  whore  tho  lemon  and  the  piercing  Umo, 

With  tho  di-ep  oraiige,  glowing  through  tho  groon. 

Their  lighter  glories  blend. 


*  Lverettnt,  V.  735.    W»  hsre  follo«»il  the  undonbtedlr  Imp  resdfaigt  r»t 
Baitl«7  aad  lacknuuu  in  the  Gnl  sod  wcocil  Wnt^.    With  ihp  watimvnt  of  Uh* 
laM  fthooM  W  ooinpared  the  verera  of  the  EnglUh  pout  who  has  most  iictirl> 
i^proaehed  Lucrciiiu  id  tbia  paMioostc  iniensity.— tin-ami  ng  of  a  UfL- 

Iu  a  dell  'mid  Uwny  hilla 

Which  the  niM  KU'iiiuriDur  Gib. 

AdH  wfi  funfliiri'-,  itnil  Uiu  Mound 

Of  old  forwu  whotnR  mimd. 

And  \\w  lifrht  luid  smell  diviue 

Of  «U  llowcn  that  breathe  anil  shine. 

BkeOefit  *Euguie8n  HtlU.* 

How 


Iff6 


EngJiih  Poetiy 


Hovr  conventional  and  coM  does  this  sonthem  landscApc 
by  one  of  our  own  age  I  bow  JttUe  penetrated  with  music  or  in 
the  Dpirit  of  the  Sfiulb  1 

— To  burst  all  links  of  lialiit — thera  to  vraiklcr  far  away. 
Ou  firom  iBlADtl  unto  iiUanil  at  Iho  gatewaTi  of  the  daj. 
liArgor  coiutt«U&tio(ia  burning,  molloir  moonH  and  liappy  tildr«, 
BmailtliB  of  tmpio  sLiuIl'  and  palms  in  eliutor,  knota  of  Faimdiae. 
Nover  comes  the  tradur,  nevvr  fiuats  au  £uropeui  flag, 
SlidM  the  bird  o'er  lustrom  woodland,  swings  tuc  trailer  from  tbo  crag 
Droope  the  heary-hluBsom'd  bower,  hanga  the  henry-fruited  trcw? — 
Snmmcr  inleii  of  fiden  lying  in  dork-pnrplo  apherea  of  soa. 

Yet  Thomson's  once  famous  porm  fairlv  earned  its  rfputaiicm 
the  pages  are  61Ied,  in   hiit  own  graceful  wonls,   Mvitli  uiau^ 
prool"  uf  recollected  love;'  we  find  Nature  there,  though  in 
urtilicial  dress;  and  whilst  ivc  can   hardly  rank  it  as  a  irejui 
lor  all    time^   see    easily   how   great  and   useful    its    etfccC   m: 
have  been  in  its  own — how  unpopular  amongst  readers  I 
in  the  taste  of  the  previous  generation.     Pei-haps  in  some  of  hi 
too  scanty  l)Tical  pieres  wc  seo  the  genius  of  Thomson  in  i 
sweetest  form.     'Thine/  ho  says,  addressing  Solitude  with 
inimitable  warmth  of  a  genuine  passion — 

Thine  is  the  balmy  breath  of  mom, 
Jost  A8  the  tlew-bent  roso  is  bom ; 
And  while  meridian  fervoura  beat, 
Tbiiio  is  the  woodhmd  dumb  roti-cat; 
Bnt  chief,  when  evening  scenes  decay. 
And  Ihu  fninl  liuidncapc  avima  away, 
Thine  is  tlie  donbtful  soft  dtcliuo, 
And  that  beat  hotii  of  musing  thine. 
Great  poet  as  he  was,  we  may  probably  say  with  truth  that 
this  sentiment  was  to  Poi>e  aninti>lligible,  Wc  have  called  him 
the  latest — almost  llin  sti]K>rannuated — survivor  of  the  courtly 
periofl ;  and  it  is  curious  to  oliservo  wliat  country  life  and  soti-H 
tudn  appeared  tu  him.  With  his  rxquisito  inmy  and  fiiiish,  li^| 
thus  condoles  with  Miss  Bloont  *on  ner  leaving  town  after  the 
Coronation,'  1715;  — 

In  some  fair  evening,  on  yom-  elbow  laid. 

Yon  dream  of  tritunplia  in  Uio  rural  ahado ; 

In  ponsiTe  thought  recall  the  fuioied  aovsuOf 

Sea  Coronations  riso  on  overy  groou  : 

Before  you  pus  th*  imaginary  sigfata 

Of  lordfi  and  earls  and  ankos  ana  garter'd  knighti;, 

While  the  spread  Ua  o'ersliadM  your  closing  eyca — 

Thun  (-iv't  one  Oirt,  and  all  the  vinon  fliva  : 

Tims  i-niiisli  Hopptrwf,  coii:<uetB,  and  balls, 

AikI  IciTo  you  in  loue  voods,  or  empty  walk. 


from  Driftlen  to  Cw:^>er, 


167 


Under  such  a  poetical  iHctatnr  if  needed  rournge  to  pnblishtbc 
^Seasons,*  wlulsl  tli«  fact  that  t]ie  |>fMTn  was  at  ooce  successful 
Btaj  warn  uk  not  to  uvt^restiiaato  th«  jirc&tig;!;  of  I'upc, 

Nearly  ono  hundml  veai^  elapsed  between  Milton's  two 
masterpieces  of  description  and  the  two  by  Dyer  already  named. 
It  IB  obvious  that  the  'AUegm'  and  *Penseroso'  were  more  or 
less  miKlels  for  tlic  *  Oninpir  Mill '  and  tJie  *  Evening  Walk  ;'  and, 
letting  nsidf  llie  vastdifTLTCnce  in  jwnver  Wlwcen  tlie  two  writers, 
it  !•  remarkable  liiiw  little  the  art  of  landsrape  drscription  lutd 
cluuiecd  or  advanced  during  tlie  inten'al.  Like  Milton,  Dyer, 
in  what  we  termed  before  the  older  method,  refers  every  fcatura 
in  the  landscape  to  mnn  nud  liumnn  tntorest,  and,  in  the  fashion 
of  the  day,  muiiilizes  im  all  hir  w-rs.  Wt  the  natural  element,  as 
witli  Thi>m»on,  is  inort'  prumlnent,  and  man  bi-gins  to  W  viewed, 
ta  use  a  painter's  pbra&e,  as  an  acci-ssiiry  fii^re.  If  we  rntnparetl 
Millnn's  poems  with  the  sublime  and  gorgeous  landscapo  back- 
gmunds  of  Titian,  the  work  of  Dyer  and  of  his  contemporaries 
might  be  likened  to  Claude.  Neither  can  frankly  trust  himself 
to  paint  Nature  only,  and  must  have  some  human  subject  as  an 
ejicusr  for  Untlscapc — bow  remote  fnim  tliat  art  which,  with 
Turner  ami  Wordswortli,  luus  unsealed  ftir  us  the  inmost  en- 
cbcjited  fountains  of  natural  beauty  !  liut  lliis  consummation  is 
distant  at  the  age  of  whirJi  wc  are  speaking.  Poets  were  still 
influoaced  by  what  to  us  seems  an  almost  schoolboy  style  of 
classicttl  criticism  ;  they  must  still  view  fields  and  forests  tlirough 
a  learned  glass  ;  they  are  inrnjiable  of  a  pure  jtassion.  Indeed, 
perhaps  tlie  pieces  decidedly  in  the  artificial  manner  are  nut  less 
pleasing  than  the  further-reaching  attempts  of  men  like  Thoinsuu 
or  Dyer.  Tiiketll's  charming  picture  of  Holland  House  is  pro- 
"^  ily  known  to  some  readers.  PaniDirs  *  Health '  contains  pas- 
oi  equal  beauty : — 

Come,  eonntry  goddess,  oomo ;  qot  thoti  tmffioe, 
Dut  bring  thy  mouutnin  sister,  Exercise. 
Call'd  by  tliy  lovely  vmon,  Hhn  tum-s  hrj-  paco; 
Her  winding  bora  proclaims  tho  finish 'd  chaac  ; 
She  moimts  Ibo  rocks,  she  Kkims  the  level  plain, 
Dogs,  hawks,  and  horses  cruwd  her  early  train. 
Iler  bwdy  fac«  repels  the  taoning  wind. 
And  linos  and  meshos  looeely  float  Iwhind. 
All  these  as  mnan-i  of  tuil  Uio  fuublu  sue, 
Bnt  these  aro  h^lps  to  plcaeorc,  joiud  with  thoo. 
O  eoiQi!,  tliou  goddess  r>f  my  rural  song, 
And  bring  thy  dnagbtcr,  calm  Content,  nlong  I 
Dame  of  the  rnddy  cheek  and  laughiu^  oye, 
From  whoso  bright  preaenoe  olonds  of  eon'ow  6y : 

for 


108 


Etifflish  Pottry 


For  lior  I  mow  my  walks,  I  pknt  my  bowtra, 
Clip  itty  Inw  hndgcK,  and  Hiijijiort  my  fluweis; 
Tu  vrelcumi!  lior,  this  Kimiuiur-scat  I  dreet ; 
And  bere  I  court  her  when  hLo  comes  to  rost. 


Annili 


the  pasttinil 


ii'ectioii  of  this  leiiriKnl  landscat 
atuusas,  into  which  as  \\xp.  century  »ilvai)CP<l  tne  eclogue  ^raduiillv 
faded.     This  Ihsbton   has  jiiven   us  a  few  brautiful  lines  from! 
Shcnstonr,  and  n  vcr)'  fpw  from  Hammom).     They  arc  writen 
frer  from  carelessness  and  conceit :  yet  these  raerita»  too  high  \t 
be  called  nefrative,  are  not  enougfh  to  redeem  their  elegies  froi 
the  fate  which  at  hist  overtakes  a  querulous  insipidity. 

Near  twenty  years  appear  to  have  ]>asscd  after  the  impulse  ^vt 
by  Thomson   before  the  description  of  Nature  made  a   furtbc 
step ;  and    it  is  rpmarkahle  that  this  step  was  due  to  the  dceppT.] 
study  of  nnripnt  literature  already  ntiticeil.      It  is  difficult  U> 
mate  the   restrtiintm  inHuence  which  that  study  had  held  uvi 
former  poets,  into  what  grotesqueness  and  licence  of  conceit  evt 
writers  such  as  Spenser  or  Oryclcn  might  have  fallen  without 
example  of  the  exquisite  moderation  of  Virgil  and  Horace.     But' 
it  is  easy   to  observe  the  jH^datitrv  and  shallowness  which   oar 
jXH'ts  tiH>  often  inherittMl    from  tliis  source ;  ami    it  was  no  mt 
than  a    fair    com])easation  that    tiie    dee]K-r    scholarship   whirl 
from  the  da}*!  of  Bentley  had  taken  root  in  England  should  n»i 
enrich  ns  with  the  poetry  of  Collins  (J74C)  and  Gray  (1747-57) 
Few  are  the  ports  who  hove   received    more  praise   from    thi 
wdidiv  t<i  ^ivf  it  thau  the  authors  of  tlie  '  Ode  «m  the  Passions' 
and  <if  the  *  ICIcgv.'     Vet  publio  taste   in  its  last  flurtiiatiim  aj 
pears  inclined  to  treat  them  with  indiflrreace    as  artificial 
orerfinished.     We  think  this  opinion  essentially  onesided  ar 
narrow  ;  yet  it  is  a  natural  reaction.     Two  great  moods  of  the 
mind  in  regard  to  poetry  have  always  existinl,  ami  may  lie  said  ti^n 
have    liiHMi    persimificil  in  the  18th  and  19th  centuries.      To  thdH 
one,  s|M)ntaneous  poetry,  whether  the  work  of  cullivate«l  men  or 
not — of  Shelley  or  of  Bums — has  a  charm  so  great  as  to  blind 
its  admirers  to   the  contrasted    merits  of  more   conscious  and 
elalxirate  workmnnshia      On   (he  opposite  side    is  a  taste  toQ^ 
strictly  confmed  to  clear  and  Bnished  exprr-ssion  and    too    iniS 
patient  of  deviations  from    its  own  standard.     These  extremes 
hold    alternate    swav ;    n<;r    is    it    worth    atteinptijig    to    decide 
which   is  least  remote  from  the  golden  moilemtion  which  rcrog- 
nises  tliat  form  and  substance  are  not  oppositcs,  hut  coiTelative 
expressions  of  ntality,  and  that  Art  iit  once  ililTers  from  and  is 
the  consummation  of  Nature  ;  above   her  in  aim,  and  below 
in  execution.     These  phrases,  we.  fear,  will  W  tliought  as  India 

iiiK-i 


lU   IS 

idiS 


A 


from  Drytlm  to  Coteprr. 


IfiJt 


tinct  as  the  extreme  opinions  we  are  combating  aro  plain  mid 
*  cbarted  oat  in  their  coarse  blacks  and  whites.'  Vt>t  readers 
may  be  assured  that  only  by  aid  of  this  sobriety  of  taste  can 
they  gain  that  {p-eat  [»ift,  the  pure  and  lively  appreciation  which 
enjoys  each  phase  of  songj  in  its  turn.  pf>lishp<l  grnco  and  spon- 
taneous utterancp,  and  is  at  homn  npially  in  the  ^rdens  anil 
in  the  wild  places  ol'  the  imagination.  Tht-re  is  a  pedantry  of 
naturalism,  if  we  may  so  speak,  no  less  than  of  mannerism  ;  and 
this  is  probably  ihf  exag-grmtion  ajjainst  which  the  saner  min<l 
shnuld  at  present  ^lanl  itself,  es]>prtin^  the  day  when  the  popu- 
lar praisf  of  'freshness,'  '  natun?,'  'passion,'  *  j;eniality,'  '  hrart,' 
and  Uie  like,  will  ^;ive  place  to  that  other  extreme  which  is  at 
once  so  opposite  and  so  near  it. 

WV  may  aflbnl  to  pass  witli  a  glance  the  accusation  of  'clas- 
sical polilncss'  hrou|j;ht  a^i^uinst  die  writers  befiire  us,  a  phrase 
common  in  the  mouths  uf  the  very  ignorant,  and  whii-h  they  are, 
unhappilv.  little  likelvto  take  the  pains  to  rectify.  Goin»  mi  mtw 
to  the  poems,  it  may  be  said,  we  think,  that  such  art  as  thai  bv 
whichGray  has  concentrated  in  the  'Klepy'a  Httleworld  of  thought 
— tboaght  at  once  simple  and  subtle,  obvious  yet  never  s<)  csprcsswl 
before  through  all  the  centuries  of  mortality — set  it  widiin  a  natu- 
ral landscape  of  consummate  beauty,  an<I  peopled  it  with  l!viti<; 
human  figures — is  an  example  of  what  the  mind  can  do  most 
Ijcrfecttv  ill  following:  the  processes  of  Nature.  '  Such  art.  ag-ain, 
as  Cullins  lias  shown  in  tlic  brilliant  i>eraonifi cation  of  the  Pas- 
si«ms,  such  as  we  find  in  Gray's  ma^ificenl  summary  nf  l-lnslisli 
history,  s(j  accurate  in  its  picturesqucness,  so  poetical  in  its  in!>ight, 
is  one  of  the  very  rarest  successes  which  human  wit  can  rearh. 
Let  us  turn  again  to  those  few  paj^s,  familiar  to  many  from  the 
norscry.  papcs  in  truth  which  to  not  a  few  have  made  (such  are 
the  illusions  of  genius)  no  small  portion  in  the  swpftest  iinagpry 
of  chitdl]04Ml,  and  admire  how  much  the  mncentratinn  and  caro 
of  these  fine  artists  has  ^iv<>n  us  in  so  little,  what  variety  in  sidi- 
ject,  what  brilliancy  yet  what  mo<!c8ty  in  the  colouring — what  a 
high^  manly,  and  honestheartcd  tone  in  the  sentiment : — 

See  the  uTutch  that  long  hse  tost 

On  tlie  thorny  be<l  nf  pain, 
At  length  repair  his  vigour  lost, 

And  breatho  and  walk  again : 
The  mettnost  floweret  of  tho  vale, 
The  niDploBt  note  tbat  swells  the  gale, 
The  cooiuon  finn,  the  air.  the  sldeH, 
To  him  aro  itjK'uiiig  Panulisu. 

Even  so,  fr<»m    the  over-elaborate    scntimentalism   of  this  aj^e, 
from  tlif!  kt/aterica  jtoisw  (let  us  say)  of '  Aurora  Leigh,*  even 

from 


I 


170  English  Foetjy 

from  the  tUmly-fashionod  forms  that  haunt  the  rltaptodieg  of 
Sbclley  iti  his  longer  works,  wc  return  with  pli-asurc  heightened 
by  contrast  tti  the  sane  sobriety  of  the  *  Elcffy/  to  thir  gray  loveli- 
aeu  of  the  *  Ode  to  Evening.'  Ars  ionffo,  vUa  brevit.  VVe  are  fl 
tliankfid  to  those  who,  working  in  o  different  spirit  from  most 
pufts  of  our  century,  under  limitations  nnd  deHciencies  easiij 
reroguised,  by  fxiuencc — and  the  genius  which  Li  patience — 
created  these  perfect  forms  for  Uie  delight  of  our  best  moment); 

LUcc  tliat  of  their  predecessors  in  general,  the  Iniubeape 
description  of  these  writers  is  tntimatclv  blended  with  humnn  ^ 
feeling ;  it  serves  as  u  trxt  for  a  rdlectivc  murallty.  Thus,  in  the  H 
fide  from  which  one  stanza  has  just  been  quoted,  the  changes  of  ™ 
nature  form  the  parallel  aud  the  contrast  together  to  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  human  enjoyment ;  in  Gray's  '  Spring '  (an  earlier  work) 
the  Icjson  of  the  year  is  drawn,  but  with  less  skill  and  subtlety  ; 
in  the  '  Elegy  '  the  living  and  the  landscajx!  elements  are  mixed 
with  the  skill  of  Titiau  ur  of  GainsbtJniugli,  Description 
appears  in  more  purity  in  Collins's  '  Evening,*  tliough  even  in 
this  the  final  nuto  is  of  'fancy,  friendship,  science;'  but  ths 
simpler  daylight  lnn<lscnpc  to  which  'our  own  poeu'  have  accus- 
tomed us  was  not  cunspicuouslv  exliibitct)  before  the  a|ipearaBcr 
of  (Joldsmlth's  'Tmveller'  (1704)  and  'Village'  (1770).  In 
each  of  these  M'orks  we  find  the  human  figure  and  the  aspects  of 
Xatui'o  uniteil,  indeej,  in  ono  picture  of  admirable  harmony ; 
but  the  modern  character,  if  we  do  not  mistake,  is  seen  in  the  fact 
that  the  poems  impress  us  as  pictures,  not  as  moralizations.  We 
have,  however,  already  observed  how  much  the  eighteenth  century 
was  an  age  of  mivolty  and  cxpprimi-nt,  CJolilsmitli's  pocins,  like 
Falconer's  'Shipwreck'  (1762),  whirh  so  curiously  blends  the 
styles  of  PojW  aud  Thomson,  are,  in  many  wars,  pecnliar  and 
single  in  their  age ;  and  for  the  origin  of  the  distinctly  mnricm 
manner,  both  in  descriptioD  and  narrative,  wo  mtut  look  to 
another  school. 

As  the  ailvance  in  our  poetry  made  hj  Collins  and  Gray  was 
much  iiiAuenctKl  by  the  sliitly  of  firecian  writers,  wi  it  is  remark- 
able that  the  step  whitli  we  owe  to  I'crcy  and  the  Wartons  was 
governed  by  another  form  of  antiquarian  research.  It  would  be 
an  exaggeration  to  say  tliat  the  Middle  Ages  were  to  them  what 
Adieus  was  to  tlie  fin>t-nain4Kl ;  Gmy  was  also  a  cJireful  student 
of  our  earlier  literature,  and  the  Wartons  were  accompltshetl  sons 
of  tliat  university,  one  of  whose  niauv  glories  it  has  lung  bern  that 
there  the  spirit  and  genius  of  the  ancients  receive  tnit:  appreciation 
ami  honour.  Nor  were  they  without  mimy  allies  in  what — if 
the  ward  may  be  excused — might  be  called  their  Elizabethan  ism. 
Beside  the  n-searchcs  of  men  like  Gray,  Collins,  and  Mann, 

tlie 


I 
I 


I 


frGin  Drydea  to  Coirper. 


171 


the  simple  fact  that  in  no  ago  ban  tlie  imitation  (if  Spenser  been 
more  common  than  daring  the  eif^hteentli  century  shows  bow 
itich  the  tide  wa&  already  prepare!  to  turn  towards  our  earlier 
ry."  Indeed,  looking  back  to  the  brothers  who  so  much 
i.nt-(;U>tl  tlic  rourai-  nt  nur  drseriptive  poetrj",  it  is  rlear  that  the 
minil  of  Ur.  Warton,  the  fatht-r  of  Jnsi?pli  am)  Thotnas,  was 
Cnneil  to  tlie  same  uielod^  as  the  minds  of  liis  Ix'tter-known 
children.  'J'be  hliowing  <lelicatc]y-touched  lines  must  have  been 
written  bclore  J  745  :— 


On  ball  of  dnlrim  iillr  hM, 

vOlow  vsTtnff  o'er  ni^  bcNiid. 
nonuDg  on  Uid  Ixmoiii^  atcia 
-■  the  round  awl  gUttenng  gem. 
by  tbo  IniMe  of  jrowlcT  tipring. 
Of  Nature's  miuiu  okumns  I  niug : 
Aiuliitiiiu,  pndi\  and  iitiiuti,  lulieu : 
YoT  what  liM  Joy  to  Jo  mth  you  ? 


Joy,  ro!«-l!pft*d  Drj-nd.  loroi  to  dwl^1l 
lo  Buany  Jiold  or  taoMy  onll : 
Uelightii  on  echoing  IiiIIb  to  favsr 
The  rcapeKs  »ong.  or  lowlni;  steer: 
Or  view  with  tonfoM  plenty  mrMd 
Tbo    crowded    coni'OsU,    blooaii 

While  beauty,  licaJth,  and  {diioomim 
TnmpDTt  the  eye,  tbe  ttoul,  lb«  i 


No  great  advance  on  this  is  exhibited  by  Tbonias  Wnrton,  nor, 
amount  a  number  of  nleasinff  poems,  has  he  lefi  any  stamped 
with  original  jnwer.  He  looked  at  life  and  Nature  with  a 
learned  rather  tlion  a  gifted  eye,  Uiroiigh  the  imprnssinns  whieh 
he  derived  from  the  study  of  our  own  earlier  literature.  He 
pivcs  graceful  pictures  in  the  Kliznbeihan  manner,  or  that  recall 
the  immorial  landscapes  of  Milton.  Cut  the  influence  which  he 
exerriseil  most  nut  be  measured  bv  his  own  creations ;  it  was 
probably  the  wider  and  the  more  enduring  because  it  aimed 
rather  at  resloration  ami  revival  than  at  novelty.  Headers  will 
find  two  charming  specimens  of  his  style  in  his  ^Hamlet' and 
*  First  of  April.'  We  prefer  to  quote,  as  more  indicative  of  his 
mind,  a  short  ode,  *  written  in  solitude  at  an  inu  in  1709  :  '^ 


on  ' ' -  i-'ii .1  f  ..'lin, 

Oil.  1  Iraio. 

Wl..;  LL-ocoo'd, 

BatM  I  ii»;t  ltii-<t,  Si'IiIiuIkI 
TtifQ  wtir  loiiMliiuwi  lo  mc 
Tk-*l  and  trou  9oelet^-. 
Ihit,  h)i  !  Iiow  altered  Is  tby  mien 
la  tLia  sad  dttierted  Mceael 


Ilvre  all  Iby  clftMiu  plt-Murei  i 
Uodoc  ntO*!.  and  tlton^tlitAtl  pesMT] 
Here  Ihou  eriiu'rt  in  MlUMi  BMod, 
Not  with  tliy  (ontutia  brood 
OfmAgic  S)iitpe«  and  >'bdon«  airy, 
Bockon'd  troiD  the  land  of  Fairy. 


These    lines     are    one    example    of    many,    illustrating    what 
seems  to  us  the    most  individual   feature  in  this  phase  of  our 

rtry.     Till"   importanre  of  the   work    left   by   tlie   Wartont, 
^    Logan,   Beattie,  and    others^    lies    less    in   the   work   itself 
than  in  the  sentiment  which  i:  jicrpetnaUy  embodies.     Courtly 

*  This  enrioui  fraloro  ci'  tin-  limc  drsi-rri-t  study,  with  a  hundred  nmiUr 
detail*.  Wheu  will  En|:li*li  poeir;— after  (he  Oree£  the  most  imfionuil  In  th« 
whole  vorlil't  liteniiirv! — Bod  a  hiitgrtao  of  the  eTeutfiil  caietr  ia  which  we  can 
noly  liriKfly  Botice  a  ft;w  upocu  ? 

and 


mill  cultivateil  life.  rrgulaUM)  ami  (tliougli  in  a  loft^  sense) 
(■unvciiticmni  Uistes  aiul  manners,  were  the  themes  of  the  Kcfaool 
which  culminated  in  Pope.  A  love  of  the  wilii  and  the 
romantic,  a  deference  to  fancy,  an  enthusiasm  for  solitude  and 
cuuntrv  srent^  dLsting'uisli  the  school  which  succeeded  him.  In 
die  first  we  are  in  the  Loudon  of  Bolinnbi-oke  and  Harlejc,  or 
tnrforo  *  ^rt'at  Anna '  at  her  solemn  TVit'  in  the  halls  of  llampttm ; 
or,  if  awav  from  the  paLire  and  the  park,  our  most  of  rountr)'  is 
Stowc  or  Blenheim.  It  is  always  sunlight  or  waxlight,  nor  are 
we  ever  quite  unconscious  of  rulDes,  hoops,  and  powder,  Witli 
tlie  new  school  the  scene  shifts :  the  pure  agricultural  country 
itself,  farms  and  shepherds,  are  not  sufliciently  rustic: — *  Hide 
me  from  day's  parish  eye:'  we  arc  with  Warton  in  tlie  ahy&aes 
of  Whichwood,  or  Lopan  by  a  monumental  urn  set  in  dim 
shades  by  a  grotto  at  twilight ;  or  Bcnttie  carries  us  (o  the  remote 
roltnges  of  lowland  valleys  : — 

Slow  let  mv  climb  tho  iiinnntain*8  airy  brow ; 

Th«  groou  height  gain'd,  in  luiuofill  raptorc  lie ; 
Sleep  to  tho  murmur  of  tho  woods  below. 

Or  look  on  Nature  with  n  lovor'n  eye. 

LA.vonDUNE,  VitioM  of  Fancy,  17G2. 

I^gan  lias  a  fine  ode  on  an  autumnal  scene,  which,  with 
Beattie's  better-known  jMienis,  pre:ient  this  ns|H'ct  of  Natun?  in  its 
fullness.  Like  the  painted  landscape  of  the  time,  the  tone  of 
these  works  is  sulxJuptl  and  sombre,  not  without  a  certain  sent)- 
mentalisin.  One  might  call  them  Oainsbo roughs  on  jmpcr. 
Contrast  the  pictures  of  that  great  ortisl  with  those  of  Turner, 
glowing  with  sunlight^  and  rendering  every  aspect  of  this  *  mucfa- 
variegated  cart3i,'  and  the  reader  will  liave  a  fair  measure  of  the 
difTcrencc  between  the  poetical  landscape  of  this  century  and 
that  of  the  period  we  are  speaking  of.  In  this,  no  doubt,  the 
foreign  influences  wliich  after  1770  began  to  he  felt  again  in 
Kngland  nn;  concemeil,  and  s<nncthing  of  the  spirit  of  Koussenu 
and  Werier  <-<)lours  our  poctrj-  with  a  soft  hazy  sadness,  not 
unpleasing  to  those  who  are  wearied  by  the  lurid  lights  and  per* 
}wtu»l  purple  with  which  some  writer?  have  lately  familiarised 
us.  But  a  grrnt  change  u-ns  at  hand  ;  and  mntemiwranrouslv 
with  ihe  first  sounds  of  politirni  storm  across  the  Channel  we 
find  our  poets  [lassing  to  a  sterner  and  more  practical  view,  not 
only  of  Man  but  of  Nature.  Cowper's  landscape  takes  a  mnge 
far  wider  than  his  predecessors'  ;  but  what  wc  w<»uld  here  dwell 
tm  is  the  ivmstant  interfusion  in  it  of  two  elements  hardly  frit 
before, — the  jmsltion  and  wavs  of  (he  agricultural  poor  nnil  tlic 
lessons  of  religion.  Crabbe's  scojie  is  far  more  rralrirtetl ;  in  its 
gencml  gloom  it  may  remind  us  of  the  writings  just  noticed  ;  but 

hat 


i 


hL 


witat 


from  Dri/den  to  Cowper. 


lis 


wliat  in  Gray  and  Collins,  Logan  and  Warton,  was  a  musing  inclnn- 
choly,  in  the  Suffolk  poet  a<L<iiimes  a  stem  tone  of  momllKution. 

As  the  critical  spirit  prcdoniinntcs  in  the  (?.irli«r  }M)«ir}-  o(  tlie 
(eighteenth  ronturv,  so  in  the  latter  portion  two  p-eat  tendencies 
ar«  visiljli-:  love  nf  nnliiral  description,  and  altempu  at  a  mure 
viviii  ami  wider  dt-lincntion  o]~  Imman  clmracter  and  incident. 
\Vc  have  now  examined  the  piw-try  nf  naturr  at  some  length,  and 
may  turn  to  the  last  portion  of  the  present  essay — the  gradual 
flcrelopinrnt  of  the  tnlc  and  the  lyrical  narrative.  That  style 
grew  up  by  ati'ps  so  gradual  and  so  modest,  that  the  vast 
place  which,  with  the  puctrv  of  nature,  it  wiiuM  linld  in  later 
days,  was  totally  unanticijiatcil  liefurc  it  had  lieen  stiiniiM-d  liy 
the  ro^'al  hands  of  IJurns  and  Scott  Ou  the  af»ence  of  Uiis 
Inrm  of  verse  from  our  earlier  caUivated  literature  we  Lave 
remarked  before  ;*  nor  can  wc  now  attempt  to  trace  the  obscure 
orvfittai  and  descent  of  the  liiillad  poetry  with  which  the  col- 
lectors of  the  last  hundred  years  (so  often  iHiets  themselves)  linve, 
as  it  were,  endowetl  us.  Whilst,  however,  the  greater  number 
were  still  the  fireside  delight  of  Knglish  cotta-^cs,  or  lingering  in 
the  depths  of  Yarrow,  a  fe*v  ballads  had  alwavs  ret-iincd  cur- 
rency amongst  the  more  educated  classes ;  and  from  Uie  days 
of  Sidney  to  Addison,  stories  like  'Chevy  Chase'  or  *  Fair 
Rosamond'  never  wanted  the  attention  of  uicn  uf  taste,  and 
were  collected  by  students  like  Selden,  Ashuiolc,  and  Pepys. 
Meanwhile  that  bent  of  pcietrj-  to  common  life,  which  we  have 
noticed  ns  the  gnjwing  characteristic  of  the  whole  age,  whilst  on 
the  one  Iiand  it  prwiuced  tiie  'familiar'  pieces  of  Swift,  Prior, 
Orecii,  and  many  more,  devoted  to  common  life,  but  common 
life  in  its  city  aspects;  on  tlie  other  suggested  the  liappy  dis- 
covery that  incidents  of  more  natural  and  rustic  character — 
such  as  the  *  Lovers'  Death,'  which  so  struck  Gay^might  olsoj 
l»r  suitable  for  soug.  This  discovery,  for  it  was  no  l(?5s,  was  cor 
trmporancHius  with  the  origin  of  our  descriptivi*  poelrj-,  and 
might  b<>  fancifully  said  to  liavc  furnisht^l  figures  for  the  laml- 
scapes  of  Dyer  and  Tliornsnn,  And  the  development  of  lyric-; 
narration  should  specially  be  noted  as  the  first  exauvple  of 
influence  held  by  genuine  Scotch  literature  over  English,  of 
which  this  (tentury  has  witni'ssed  a  renewal  so  striking  and  io 
potent.  Bcfrne  17J2(),  we  lielieve,  were  produced  the  eailiest 
pnhltsliPil  collections  nf  truly  national  songs  and  l>nllads  in 
A.  Kainsay's  'Miscellany'  and  'Kycrgreen' — collections  con- 
tnining,  iudee<i,  much  dross  miugletl  witli  the  purer  metal,  and 
not  a  few  ancient  poems  alloyed  with  mmlern  matter ;  yet , 
(Uudoulttedly  of  excellence  sufficient  to  set  their  mark  on  an  agej 

•  Vol.  ex.,  pp.  ♦«-». 

already 


ulrmdj  piTpamil  In  turn  an  (Nir  tti  anctunt  imrltxiios,  and  a  nico 
alive  with  just  sensitiveness  to  their  national  frlories.  Kamny 
and  hii  work  were  rapidly  appreciated;  and  h»  we  hatl  tliat 
Gay,  when  tmvellinj  in  the  North,  vrn»  Ramsay**  visitor  at  Edin- 
Inirgli,  it  may  be  reasonaljly  conrhiitrd  that  to  the  spirit  he 
raug;ht  in  the  shop  in  '  Niildry's  Wyml '  was  durr  sume  |>ortion  at 
least  of  tliat  which  places  («ay  ainnii*j!tt  the  hest  song'-writi'rs  of 
the  century.  To  the  same  jieriod  Mon;;  Mallei's  '  MarpirBt,* 
TickeU's  'Lucy,'  and  Carey's  'Sally.'  The  two  stylr»  of  ancient 
and  modern  ballad  ma!(?«:rrl,  ami  fnim  tliis  time  onward*  imita- 
tions of  the*  old  Scotch  and  Kiiglish  soug  an*  scattered  througU 
the  collci-tions.  These  early  attempts  cxempltfv  that  grnal 
feature  of  the  eighteentli  century — so  often  supcrficiidly  cea- 
Kured  as  lame  and  conventional — its  adventurous  experinirntal 
spirit  and  aim  at  new  lines  in  poetry.  But  it  was  natural  that  tlie 
elements  should  not  mix  kindly;  that  (as  in  ttie  diction  of  thti 
time)  tlie  city  muse  shouUI  jar  witli  the  muse  of  the  cuitntry; 
that  the  halUi]  should  at  times  apjx-ar  (as  in  Oay's  *  Susan  ')  in 
a  Imlf  court-<lress,  nt  times  with  the  almost  over-nalurnl  but  irre- 
sistible pathos  of  the  '  bally  * — a  poem  which  might  have  been 
the  envy  of  Catullus,  as  it  was  the  admiration  of  Addiaoa. 

A  second  stage  is  markrnl  liv  Percy's  *Rplique9  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry*  (1765),  a  book  happily  too  familiar  to  require, 
UiiniK'li  it  well  deserves,  a  detailed  criticism.  From  alioat  this 
date  we  may  note  a  vast  advance  towards  a  reiillv  vivid  and 
truthful  style  in  our  ballads,  Goldsmith's  '  l^dwin '  beine  perhaps 
the  latest  specimen  of  the  more  conventional  manni-r.  Ihit 
highly  as  wc  rate  tlic  grace  and  music  of  his  verses,  they 
cannot  claim  the  excellence  of  Didy  Anne  Lindsay's  *  Aald 
IWuu  Gray  '  ^1771),  Miss  Elliott's  '  Flower*  of  the  Forest,*  or 
Micklc's  admimble  'And  are  yr  snre  the  news  is  trap?' 
'one  of  the  most  beautiful  sonps,'  as  Bums  justly  tdMerved,  'in 
the  Scots  or  any  other  lan^ajre.'  As  a  less  happy  result  of 
the  same  tendency  to  the  Past,  we  may  name  the  attempt  to 
revive  or  rrnovntc  extinct  forms  of  literatme  in  Chattertnn's 
'Media!\'al  Romances*  (17G8).  We  have  thnmghou!  lonknl  at 
poetry  as  governed  by  great  general  laws,  and  the  crenlure  of 
national  development.  Tliis  revival  of  sjTnpathy  for  the  aotinne 
forms  no  exception,  although  we  can  here  only  indicate  its 
sources — in  the  peace  of  Wali>oIe't  government,  which  allowed 
men's  Interests  to  revert  fnnn  present  to  long  past  political 
struggles,  and  the  reaction  agntunt  tlic  dominant  VVhig  families 
and  principles  which  set  in  after  1760,  Minor  cauws  and 
parallels  may  be  found  for  the  work  of  Percy,  Wartrm,  nock 
Chattcrton,  in  the  antiffuarian  researches  of  Walpole  and  his 

trieoi 


I 


i 


jwm  Drtfdm  to  Cowpcr. 


175 


friciids,  anci  Uielr  first  attempts  at  Gothic  mmtincc  in  books  and 
buildings ;  whiUt  the  popiilority  of  Ossiftn's  poems  was  rrndered 
pouiblc  b^r  the  opcninpf  of  the  Hifflilands,  and  the  rerutsion  of 
feeling  towards  their  wild  ialmbttauts,  ubicli  i'ollowcd  the  pacifi- 
cation of  1749. 

To  the  further  development  of  the  lyrical  tmrmttvo  vre  can 
spare  only  a  few  words.  In  Scotland,  Fergussun's  jioenis,  cxliibil- 
ini^  the  same  advance  in  nature  on  Kamsay's,  as  IVrcy's  ballads 
on  Mallet's,  appeared  in  1773 ;  whilst  it  is  enongh  to  add  tliat 
Hums'  first  and  best  volume  was  published  in  1786.  In  Knglaitd 
a  sinipilar  general  pause  in  poetry  occurs  alter  1770 — a  space 
of  sili-ni-t!  in  that  region,  prelusive  (one  might  fancy)  to  the 
Kyinphunic  and  exultant  burst  of  song  which  fills  the  first 
thirty  years  of  our  own  century  *  with  sounds  that  echo  still.' 
Two  voices  atone  break  the  stillness ;  criticism  cannot,  indeed, 
rank  either  poet  amongst  the  greatest,  yet  seldom  has  a  vast 
coming  cliange  been  more  surely  heralded  than  by  Crabbc  and 
CowjKT.  filnncc  back  one  moment  over  the  space  covem!  by 
our  brief  and  partial  rpriew,  and  consider  the  strange  inlen'al 
between  the  writing  whose  masterpieces  arc  the  *  Rape  of  the 
Lock '  and  the  *  Parish  Register ; '  between  the  *  Keligio  Laiei  *  at-] 
Orydcn  and  the  *  Hymns  of  Cowpcr — one  a  theology  midwaj 
between  Aquinas  and  llobbcs;  the  other  painting  the  strugifles 
of  the  soul  in  the  battle  of  (Jracc  and  Despair,  with  a  force . 
perilously  near  to  that  madness  which  in  Plato's  idea  wns,  ns  it! 
wen*-,  the  other  side  of  poetical  inspiniticin.  Compart?  thi-si?  men 
when  tlipy  tnurli  analogous  Oiemes — (Jrabbe's  '  isnav.  Asliford,* 
and  Pope's  *Man  of  Ross* — and  observe  how  in  their  likeness, 
if  we  may  risk  the  phrase,  they  are  almost  more  unlike  than  in 
their  ilissiuiilarities.  Notice  also  how  strictly  the  law  of  external 
inHiienrPs  govrms  each  period  ;  that  the  reign  of  Anne  is  not 
more  stamjK'd  on  the  brilliant  coupletsof  Pope,  titan  the*  Kngland 
of  Lord  North,  of  Hiirke,  and  of  Pitt,  on  tlie  sterner  lines  of  the 
lost  hand  which  wietiled  his  verse  witli  creative  genius.  Remark, 
lastly,  how  the  intellectnal  and  moral  qualities  of  tliat  interesting 
centnry  bear  themselves  on  to  the  close — tlie  courage,  the  venture- 
some expeninent,  the  high,  anti,  in  a  strict  seiUM-,  manly  tone, 
tlii>  love  of  carfful  form  and  ctnnplirlciicjis ;  axnl  willi  llirse  lofty 
qualttirs,  thn  tliou^hl^  and  thi!  lauguu^c  alloyed  by  cimveiilloiial 
traditions,  the  want  of  the  deeper  music  and  more  purple  light  with 
which  the  minstrels  whom  we  may  call  our  own  Iwve  enriched  us. 

Tu  sum  up  our  general  view  :  As,  after  the  long  cBurls  already 
trac-etl,  men  were  now  on  tJie  brink  of  creating  the  pure  dc*<Tip- 
Vun  of  Nature  whith  no  literature  liad  before  comiiasscil,  so  in 
the  two  last  [H>ets  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  pure  poetry  of 

hurauu 


in 


Etiglith  Poetry 


Ituman  passion  and  cbaract«r,  unkaown  in  England  since  tho 
ilrnma  of  the  pre-Uestoratii>n  |>erio<l,  reasserted  iUelf  bjr  « 
parallel  and  ton^^cninl  dcvolopmcnt.  Thus,  il*  wv  have  stated 
uur  arffumcnt  dearly,  readers  will  sec  that  the  main  {xiints  of 
traiisitiun  to  the  jKwtrv  of  our  age  ha*'e  been  sevenillv  trar«l,' — 
thp  poetry  of  Nature  tu  many  concurrent  sources,  that  of  Incident 
to  thi^  halloils,  the  passion  for  antiquity  to  the  rcsRorcbos  of 
Kamsay  and  Percy,  the  nir>dern  form,  diction,  and  melody  to  the 
revivwl  study  at  once  of  our  own  earlier  literature  awi  of  t3ie 
firec-k.  What  other  qualities  in  Wonlswortli,  Scntt,  and  their 
i'untein|>t)nirtes  wen-  Irnineiliately  due  to  llie  pn^ssnre  cif  political 
and  fiociul  life  at  home  aiul  abroad  we  tunnul  here  iiotirr,  (except 
to  add  that  by  a  true  crilici^nL  tliey  must  be  ascribed,  not,  as 
often,  to  Uic  French  Revulutiun,  the  iin^Mjrtance  of  which,  in  its 
bfurings  im  literature,  hns  been  greatly  overrntetl,  but  lo  the 
far  deeper  and  wider  spirit  of  which  tliat  was  but  a  local 
exhibition. 

Let  us  return  for  a  moment,  in  conclusion,  to  the  *  larger  and 
purer  aether '  of  pocti'v,  as  we  find  it  in  the  works  of  the  sweet 
singer  of  Oustr  antl  Olney.  How  strange  is  the  ronmucc  of  that 
pathetic  story  \  The  lightheai-ted  friend  of  'lliurlow  in  the 
attorney's  ofilce — the  lunatic  at  the  House  of  Lords — the  rapt 
visionary — the  atcnily-judging  politician — the  devout  student  of 
Homer — the  dupe  of  ^c  cobbler's  revelations, — yet,  through  all 
the  madness  of  bis  desjuir  and  superstition,  the  man  who  trolj, 
in  words  of  a  so-familiar  sublimity,  'received  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven  as  a  little  child,'— what  a  wild  series  of  contrasts  does  tlus 
career  present !  And  we  might  add  deeper  colours  .  .  .  the  ever- 
haunting  youthful  love  which  coloured  another's  life  Iiesidc  his 
own,  the  suicide  nearly  carried  out,  the  dreams,  and  ecstasies,  and 
voices  which  seemed  to  make  that  quiet  village  in  Bedfordshire 
the  meeting-point  and  bittlle-lield  between  Hell  and  Heaven.  A 
lens  romantic  sphere  of  rxistence  tlian  Cowprr's  could  hardlv  be 
imagines] ;  yet  we  have  here  what  tndy  transcends  most  romance. 
And  how  strange  also  is  the  charm  which  allures  us  in  his  )y>etry  I 
— strange  as  the  revelation  must  have  Ijeen  to  himself,  that  he,  the 
middle-agetl  and  retircil  Inwyi-r,  was  able  to  move  a  whole  nation 
to  tears  and  laughter, — to  siirjioss  the  force  of  Churchill,  and  wield 
more  tlian  the  influence  of  Pope, — ti>  reopen  the  pages  of  ancient 
Epic  to  Englishmen, — lo  carry  the  warnings  of  judgment  and  the 
lessons  of  love  to  a  thousand  cottages.  There  is  a  tale  that 
Curreggjo,  when  young,  saw  a  picture  by  Raphael,  and  with  a 
glance  of  modest  self-iliscovery  said,  Atwh'  to  fi/n  l*iUorc.  With 
some  such  feeling  must  0»w[M:r  hn\c  awakenetl  to  the  sense  of 
his  own  endoSvmcats.     This  knowledge  ciime  at  a  date  in  his 

lifb 


I 
I 


I 
I 


from  Dn/tteii  to  Cowper. 


177 


life  when  few  pwtii  liave  fullv  prcfsen'nl  their  nownr:  it  found  a 
man  unversed  beyond  most  in  thn  world's  wa^rs,  and  all  but  des- 
titute of  that  experience  which  his  great  Gorman  contemporary 
held  essential  to  saccess  in  poetry.  Yet  how  many  and  how 
various  wcm  liis  successes  I  It  wnuhl  lie  untrue  to  claim  for 
CowjHT  u  place  amongst  the  highrsi  masters  i>f  his  art,  nor  rouhl 
any  asHUinption  have  lier^n  more  alien  from  his  exquisite  tnixliiity. 
Much  also  in  his  works  was  of  a  temporary  and  a  consequently 
now  exhausted  interest ;  but  wbere  he  is  ^eat,  it  is  with  the 
^reotness  tliat  rests  on  tlie  deepest  and  simplest  human  feiding?. 
Kxtvpl  when  tluit  miuhtess  intervenes  which  discoloureii  his  life 
and  settled  on  bis  religious  opiiiiutis,  a  truly  uoble  manliueiMi  uf 
time  marks  him  everywhere.  The  love  of  freedom,  and  friend- 
ship,  and  Nature, — -the  scorn  of  pettiness,  vanity,  ambition, — the 
hatred  of  meanness  aiHl  of  wrong, — tin-  ti'Ddcrncss  for  tlic  |KKir 
and  feeble, — all  these  elementary  alTections  of  human  natun.% 
which  so  rarely  penetrate  the  chaiartcr  of  those  who  praise 
them,  were  to  this  highhearted  uian  the  bieath  of  life.  These 
riualititv  are  not  poetry,  but  they  are  far  more  important  to 
the  poet  than  llie  experience  so  prized  by  Goetlic.  Cowpcr  has 
embodied  them  with  a  noble  simplicity  of  style  worthy  of  t}ie 
ancients.  A  severe  grace  is  the  most  marked  characteristic  of 
his  writing;  such  verses  as  his  '  Royal  Geoi|^' are  like  the  creation 
of  a  Grecian  chisel ;  but  tliis  severity  is  accomj)nnie<l  iiud 
bahinced  bv  humour  of  delightful  quality,  gay,  gamesome,  and 
fearless,  vet  delicate  and  tender  with  more  than  feminine  t^-mler- 
nrss.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  him  with  his  Scottish  <'on- 
tempomry  i  both  struggling  in  style  agiiinst  the  inanncrism  from 
which  they  could  not  wholly  escape;  brjth  loving  Nature  and 
Human    Nature   with    the  enthusiasm   of    the    port's    immortal 

routhfulness :  Burns  the  more  intense,  Cow|)er  the  wider  in  his 

itcrcsls :  the  one  richer  in  colour  imd  melody  and  spontaneous 

flow,  the  other  attaining  his  end   by  n  more  gracious  touch,  and 

compensating  bv  jHirity  for   what  he  wants   in  strength.     Such 

hIIpIs  are  templing,  but    must  not  be  eagerly  pushed,  or  we 

^"jnay  (n'erlook  the  essential  differences   between  these  two  great 

poets.     Yet,  unlike  as  they  are  in  many  points,  no  one  %vill  deny 

^that  they  are  amongst  the  very  few  who  have  united  in  a  high 

legre**  the  gifts  of  humour  and  nf  [lathos.  We  are  famiHnr  with 
the  humonms  side  of  iMjtti  ;  it  is  man;  rurluus  to  eontrast  them 
in  the  pathetic.  Here,  although  an  undisriplined  L-iste  has  led 
~um  too  often  to  cnfcetslc  his  lines  with  commonplace  aud  care- 
mess.  Boms'  greater  alHuence  of  nature  gives  his  writing  a 
more  glowing  tone.  Let  us  quote  examples  iu  the  luxury  of 
repnMlucin(f  the  linuiirliolil  wonis  of  all  who  h>ve  poetry  : — 
Vol.  \n.—No.  223.  N  Ye 


English  Poetry 


T«  bunki  and  bnM  anil  Btreami  uotnu) 

Tb«  vmU«  w'  Monlf^omt-rj-, 
Qrofn  1<(<  your  woimIa,  sml  Cuir  yonr  flowers, 

Tour  mten  rii^v«r  drnmliw  I 
Tliere  umaaer  &nl  uubiuld  hat  n>boi, 

And  tilore  tbu  luiifrciit  lAiry ; 
Fur  llioN!  I  tiiok  the  Uust  f»r<>wolI 

O'  my  wwoet  llighlftiul  Maty. 

How  aweelly  Moixn'd  Uio  guy  jfrtt-n  IJrlr, 

nuv  ricti  tliti  iiuwUiom'fi  blwsom. 
At  iiR<Utni(nth  their  (iHgtiuit  bJiiulu 

I  ('la»p'd  her  to  luy  boeuin  I 
Ttia  i^ldfMi  liiiure  on  nn|rel-wfngi 

yiiyvt  itVr  uio  mill  my  tlvutie: 
For  dcu  to  mt<  u  li^Ut  and  lire 

WoH  my  awcvi  ili^likiid  H1U7. 


W]'  TiKwy  STOW  wid  lor>k'd  wnhrace 

Our  lUTting  WM  fu'  tondcr ; 
And  iiU»lRiii)j  ftfl  to  miict  Again, 

We  lor»«  niirwlii  lunindcr  ; 
But  0  I  fL'U  l>Liitb'«  untimely  fnH 

Tliut  iii|>l  my  lluver  ma  ciuly ! 
TsoW|ttt'Hn')illio»c«l,  and  raoldii  thoi 

TIibI  wraps  my  HigtiUuid  Mw^  \ 

0  (mLo.  jiiJe  DOW  thow  rwjr  Up<i 

I  uft  lioo  IdsB'd  mo  fiindlj  I 
And  I'l'jjid  for  aye  the  spuklinK  gl 

Tlul  dwult  uu  ine*a'-kii»1lv  : 
And  minildering  now  II'.     I         '■•.-l 

TbatllwrttlutloV-!  .  { 

Uiit  vtiil  wiUiia  iny  bust.^....  .^.^ 

mmll  liva  luy  tOgliUud  Hur; ! 


There  Is  a  strait^   fire  nbout  this  poem  ;  It  is  the  aun»ct  of  1 
an  overmastering  pasition.     Anothrr  and  rarer  phase  of  poMion, 
le«  iervid  in  its  onn  nature,  is  tliot  puinted  by  Cowpcr.     Tliero  j 
is  ni)  awful  ctiluurless  calui  nliuut  his  staniEos  to  Mrs,  Unwin; 
an  intensity  of  pusslaiiate  desjxiir. — 

For  pould  I  vh'w  nor  tUfm  imr  l\we, 
WIml  Mglit  wodti  t>«cing  4.<oald  I  Me? 
The  ann  wnuld  nw.>  m  vain  fur  twv 
My  Sluy ! 

Pnrtabiin  rif  Ui^'  mil  lUvMne, 
Tliy  liimtU  thi-ii  Ltlk'  tuKO  tamgu  ; 
Yet,  g«iitly  fina«*d,  una  Koatly  mine, 
MyBCiuyl 


Th<'  twt'ntlt-tli  Tosr  it  well  nigh  piut 
Sinoo  llr#t  our  #lc)-  n-nn  ovefcnrt ; 
All  1  wvuld  that  tlm  migUt  be  tlio  lost, 
Jly  Slury ! 

Tliy  HfitriU  linve  u  tkiiitvr  Saw, 
I  m.\'  lini-  iliuly  wmkcr  i^w — 
Tww  my  tlulrKmji  tlint  moiiglil  UiM  low. 
My  U»jy  I 

Tliy  i>««dl«)i,  onco  a  aliiniriA  hIi^to, 
I-Vir  my  KiikK  inAtloAs  lii-ivUifoH^ 
Vim  riul  tlUnusd,  nnd  stiiiiu  til>  more ; 
My  Muy  I 

For  thong^  than  glwlly  wonld^t  fulfil 
Tlie  mame  Idod  umce  Tor  luv  ntill. 
Tby  aiglil  now  leitniib  uut  Uiy  will, 
MyBUty! 

Bnt  wrll  thou  plny'dAt  lh«  linnjK-wifc'd  pari, 
Atril  nil  tliy  ibrMula  with  niu^ie-ari 
II1LV0  wound  itioniMilTeH  sbnul  tliit  hmrt. 
My  JUiyl 

Thy  liidUtinct.  i-^prnotJima  >oiin 
Jiloo  liutfn>'m<'  ultiT'd  In  M  drtttQi ; 
Yi't  nie  IIh-v  I'liitmi,  wluti^'cc  tlui  tlipmu, 
UyMmyl 

Thy  diver  locks,  0000  anbnm  krlghtt 
Are  Btill  mon:  Lirely  in  ny  si^it 
Than  itoldeni  1>aua«  of  onvnt  ught, 
"^   HyUnry! 


Biloh  levbleaeM  of  Umba  ihoTi  pmy'fl, 
Tlial  nitw  nt  vraj  titcp  Uxtu  mov'iit 
Vrihi-ld  hy  tWK ;  wt  atiJl  tlinii  Inv'ri, 
MySIuy! 

And  Ktill  to  lov«.  though  proM'd  wldi 
In  wintry  iti^a  to  Tvel  uu  ouiU, 
Willi  mv  b  to  bv  lovdy  itill. 
MyK«ij! 

Itiil  nh !  by  <:on9lant  hc«d  I  know 
llim  ofl  Itio  MulnuM  lliut  I  ilimr 
Trknaftimu  Ihy  Molica  to  looks  of 
My  Mary  1 

And  •houM  my  fiiliin  lot  Iw  omI 
With  miu'h  nwuiblwiix'  of  the  inMt. 
Tliy  wom-uiit  hmit  will  l>rc«k  at  liwt, 
My  Mary  I 


Now,  a  few  of  tltc  Lines  on  his  mother**  portiait : — 

Gould  Tim<%  his  flight  revened,  reatorc  the  hours 
When,  placing  witii  tby  Tosturo'a  tismied  flontan, 


Tho 


Jrfm  Dtyden  to  Cmeper.  179 

The  nol6t.  the  pink,  and  jeesanuae, 

I  priokod  tliom  into  pupoi-  with  a  pin, 

(Ami  Hnm  waht  liappiiir  than  mysolf  Ihe  while, 

Wonldst  ttoftly  Bp<iiu£.  and  stroke  my  head,  and  Bmilo) 

^Oould  those  fow  pleasant  dajs  again  app>eftr, 

3ngfal  ono  wifd]  bring  them,  wcmid  I  wiHh  thum  hofO  ? 

I  irotild  not  fcnut  my  heart— the  dear  delight 

Seems  bo  to  ho  dcatrtyl,  perhaps  I  might : — 

Btit  no, — what  beni  wo  coll  onr  lifii  i«  Huch, 

f^o  little  to  be  loTod,  and  thou  ho  mnch. 

That  I  should  ill  rcqirito  thco  to  conBlrain 

Thy  nnboimd  Bpiiit  into  bvndB  agnin. 

T^faprc  i&  little  of  tliis  blended  elevatioD  and  tenderness  in  any 
literature,  and  words  would  bnrdly  strengthen  the  cHect  of  it, 
Cowpcr  is  our  highest  master  in  simple  pathos. 


Art.  W.— I.  International  Exhibiti0n^\^^2.  Official  Catalo^utt  t 
Jjuliutrial  and  Fine  Aria  Def/artmaUs, — HhiHrated  Cafa/otfue, 
ParU  1—6. 

2.  Uixtory  of  the  International  Exhilnliott.   By  John  I  IolUng;shcad. 

WtfKX  Malvolio  was  generalizing  on  the  \'arious  ways  in 
which  mankind  become  acquainted  willi  greatness,  he 
forgot    one    notable    class — those    into  whose    mouths    greatnes* 
drops,  and  who  contrive  to  swallow  it  the  wrong  way.     Thei 
CommisiioDcrs  for  the  Exhibition  of  1862  se«m  to  have  appro* 
dated  the  oversight,  and  made  the  trial.     The  larger  and  more 
brittinnt  Corporation,  who  had  the  charge  of  the  World's  Fair  lai 
1851,  resrmhled   merchant  adwnlurers  bound  for  an  tinknowii, 
and  trenrlicrous  sea,  who  Imfiiglit  their  vessel   safelv  hnmo  again, 
in  spile  of  many  sinister  antici]»ations.    In  18ft0,  while  the  project ; 
was  under  discussion,  International  Exhibitions  were  still  among! 
the  world*»  unsolved  problems,  the  din  of  civil  strife  had  hardly 
died  nway  in  the  continental  capitals,  at  liomc  a  large  class  was 
dmid  and  vaporish,  every  inconvenience  and  danger  which  could 
siblv  result  from  the  unwonted  throng  of  foreigners  in  l^ndnn 
W3U   pressed  into   the  ser^'ico.      Colonel    Sibthorp,  whom   hnir- 
btained  shrewdness  made  a  very  ugly  antagonist,  vowed  eternal 
enmity  to  the  entire  ]>rojoct.     The  disputes  which  arodc  ahnut 
the  site  had  been  appeased  by  Royal  interpogition,  but  nt  the  hut 
moment,  when  the  sod  of  Hyde  Park  wjls  to  be  turned  and  hour» 
were  golden,  n  hnge  difTicnlty  glare*!  out  in  unexp<?ctwl  ugliness, 
Tlic  projetUirs  luut  promiiMi)  the  sliinv  before  tliey  had  secured  a^ 
house  wherein  to  lodge  their  wares.     A  competition  for  plans 

s  2  VwA 


The  Tnitrnuitional  Exhibition. 


ba<l  resulted  in  an  elaborate   failure,  and  a   project  wKicli  the 
ufTirinls  bad  (■»R>keU  up  as  tlic  quintessence  of  all  the  tenders  wag 
received  b^'  tlie  public  witli  undisguised  rrprabation,      A  break 
clown   was   all   but   certain,  when   a    ^Lrdcner   dropped  in  and 
suggested  a  big  conservatory.     Si»ce  Cinderella's  glass  alippi't^ 
no  such  success  Lad  ever  been  achieved  with  that  material.     Ihef 
*  Crystal  Palace'  rose  i'rom  the  lurf  sparkling  and  graceful,  and 
the    Silitliorp    elms    budded    under    the    transparent    roof.       Of 
course   toiiulii^s  and   wonder- mongers  wen:  nut  wanting  to  make^f 
the  lucky  hit  of  a  clever  man  ridiculous  by  fulsomu  praise;  and,^ 
as  might  be  expected,  the  Ihitterers  were  nut  unaccompanied   by 
busy  mockers.     But,  after   every  abatement,  the  Exhibition  o£^ 
1851    was    hailed  successful    in  every  asper!,   fniancinl,  artistic^ 
social,     and    commercial,    while    popular    jui^tice    nnanimousl 
rciiderL-d  the  praise  rightly  due  tcj  the  goiKl  Prince   Albert  for 
the  liappy  courage  witli  whicli  lie  undertook  and  carried  througU 
the  scheme. 

Since  1851  thr-re  has  been  a  perfect  glut  of  experience  for  thu 
who  were  not  too  proud  to  stndy  the  managernent  of  great  exhi 
bitions,  an<t    the  architectural    probleiii   of  how  tu  house  tlieiuj 
The  modified  success  of  tlie  Dublin  tmitatioti,  and  the  failuro 
of  the  Xew  Vork  speculation,  aHbrtled  ample  warnings.     Paiia^ 
was  able,  within  four  years  of  our  great  effort,  tu  matcli  its  v; 
display.      Meanwhile  the  Hyde  Park  Palace  liad  ainie  to  life 
again  at  Sydenham,    and    in    the   various  phases  of    the    South 
Keiisingloii   MusL-uui  a  whole  plitlosuphy  of  popular  rxliil>ition>S 
making   had   been  deve]o|>i.-d.      Xur  must  the  r'iue  Arts   Exht-^| 
bition   of  Manchester  in  1857  be  forgotten ;  and   oue  at  luul  of 
the  CommissioiK'rs  of  18()2  would  have  bad  no  diQiculty  in  cun-,^ 
tribuCing  to  the  common  stock  some  valuable  warnings,  gatliem|fl 
from  the  exiierience  of  that  undertaking,  as  to  the  un|)ojmlatily 
which  assuredly  follows  ujion  carelessness  and  incapacity." 

So   forewarned  and   so  lorearmfd,   the   Si>ciety  of  Arls    pi 
claimed,  first  for  18G1,  and  then  for  18ti2,  the  second   Grca 
English  Exhibition,  whilp  they  dcvolvc<l  its  managcmeot  u]k>h 
new  Commission,      These  gentlemen  assumed    their   responsi* 
bilities  under  august  auspices,  and  the  gravity  of  tJie  loss  wbicl 
felt  upon  the  world  in  last  December,  unforeseen  and  iiTeparablf 
as  it  was,  pleaded  in  their  favour  at  the  bar  of  public   loyalty^ 

*  The  iliuiiag«  so  onlp&blf  ioflicled  opon  inTsIuble  works  of  an  by  Oat  <      _ 
Ihs  maiuwr  bi  which  11117  '"<'«  rqncLeil,  htis  o{i«ratc<l  sioc^  then  ts  a  great  tUsT 
conrsMSint  to  tbc  fiinnstioii  of  xim'ilnr  Go[lv«liuns.      Wc   havii  Men  a  v«rj 
valosUc  carljr  Cologne  puinilng  fiu  paD«l,  lompming  Afpires  pxcciitvd  oe  Ibe 
scale  ui*l  witti  tbi-  hnie>li  »(  iniiiiiiiiiri'&,  whicli  «.'ii>  k*f[  tu  a  raqieulcr  lu  iwrvw  (O 
ibv  (ill  uf  B  box.     Il  was  not  Ills  ruiilt  ilial  Hiv  bult-a  wiili  wbicli  it  wm  di^ligoiv^ 
did  nut  dtstroy  any  of  the  ftws. 


The  International  Exhibition. 


181 


Its  members  passed  for  e^iierienced  men  of  business,  and 
L«rd  Granville  enjoys  all  the  popularity  which  a  very  good* 
imturtvl  public  man  not  spoiled  by  office  ts  sure  to  aenuire. 
Tlie  first  consideration  which  hnd  t<i  be  foecd  M-as  how  to  find  a 
silt!  aiifl  raise  a  biiihling  for  the  anlicjpat«i  collection.  This 
was  not  n  question  merely  of  material  enpobilities.  No  one  who 
has  followed  the  art  contests  of  I'^iigland  for  the  I.-ist  detrnde  c^n 
pTPteml  ignorance  of  the  great  Bromptou  controversy.  For 
mAny  reasons  we  merely  allude  to  this  us  a  past  scene  in  the 
cver-inc)%-tn{i^  diomma  of  liistorv,  hnping*  that  it  mnv  nnw  lie  ron* 
sidered  set  at  rcsf  by  the  romjironiisr  of  the  South  Ki>nsiii^on 
Museum  and  the  I  lurticultund  Socit-tv  l«Mng  arecjitinl  a*  aerora- 
plished  facts.  Kighteen  montlis  a^o  the  discussion  was  stiH  rile. 
The  fart  that  die  Commissioners  of  1851  had  employed  their 
profits  in  buyiniif  estates  at  Rromptnn,  of  which  thev  were  willing- 
to  lei  a  portion  fur  the  purposi-s  nf  Ii^l)2,  determiniil  tlie  ^eni^ral 
site,  bnt  it  determiuetl  nothing  more.  ThcMM*  Commissioners 
And  the  Government  had  previousiy  dissolved  a  somewhat  com- 
plicated partnership  which  they  had  contracted.  On  the  one 
side  the  ^iencc  and  Ai1  de|Kirtmcnt  of  the  adminisiration  was 
constituted  poHiiessor  of  the  South  Keiisin^on  Museum,  and  of 
the  grround  U]M>n  which  it  stood.  The  Commissioners,  for  their 
nart^  raiseil  to  the  position  of  one  of  Uiose  prent — formally  private, 
Imt  reallv  national — corpirrations,  such  as  the  Bank  and  the  now 
cclipM:<l  luist  India  Company,  which  it  is  the  genius  of  tlie 
Kn^Erlisb  Constitution  to  fosu-r,  hud  reluineti,  afUT  disposing  of 
outlying  bits  on  beneficial  buildings  leases,  u  large  oblong  slip  of 
Mme  tiftv  acres,  abutting  on  the  Kni>;kt$bridgeRoa{l  tothc  north, 
and  Imunded  east,  west,  and  south,  by  new  roads  or  streets  ca,lled 
Prince  Albert,  Eihibition,  and  Cromwell  Koads.  The  allocution 
Iff  this  land  was  closely  connected  with  a  scheme  which  was 
w-armly  supjkjricd  in  some  quarters,  but  was  never  %'ery  popular 
either  with  tne  outside  public  or  with  tlip  independent  members 
of  tlie  artistic  and  scientific  fmtprnity,  and  which,  after  liaving 
been  weakened  by  the  dissolution  of  partnership,  was  finally 
eztinfrnished  this  very  summer  by  Mr.  Gregory's  majority  against 
ihc  <lismemberment  of  the  British  Museum.  Wc  mean  of  course 
the  ambitious  project  of  Riising  at  Rromptoii  a  revival  of  tlio 
Alexandrian  *  \iu!<eum  '  out  of  tlie  dt^ms  of  the  1851  Exhibition. 
The  removal  of  the  IV.^tional  tiallcry  from  Trafalgar  Square, 
which  formed  an  clement  in  the  calculation,  happened  to  arrest 
jmbiic  attention  wlien  other  proposals  would  not  have  |M>sse5se<l 
an  interest  outside  learned  circles.  Everybody  could  drop  into 
the  actual  gallery  when  lie  wished  it,  and  so  no!)ody  desired 
to  sec  tlte  collceiioa  traosfcrrcd  to  a  region  wbicU  imjioscd  upon 

the 


the  lounger  a  cab-fare  or  a  long  walk ;   and  in  citbfrr  case 
oonsiilrrabU*  cxpenditurp  of  time.      So  tlic  Royal  CitmmissioaJ 
of   1857,    presided    over    by    L«»rd   Bomijlilon,    and    including 
Deaii   Milnmii,   Mr.   Faraday,  and  Mr.   Kichniond,  roportrd  ia 
farour  of  keeping  the  pictures  at  Charing  Cross;  and  the  Kcond. 
Derby  Government,  wnich  came  in  during  the  rollowiiw  yesr, 
"flcR-d   the  Royal  Academy  a  gift  of  n  portion  of  JJurlingluilj 
House   Gardenf    for    its    new    building,    on    rondition    of    itAl 
dclcrrnining  its  tennnry  of  the  eastern    half  uf  the   Trafalparj 
Square  Gallery.    Still,  however,  the  Cnnunissioners  held  to  thei^l 
land  nn<l  to  tboir  purpose.     The  llorticuhural  Society,  whichf 
had    since   its    foundation    rusticated    at    Chiawick,    came   into) 
proniiricnce  as  ihe'chicf  claimant  lor  their  favours.     No  one  had'l 
a  word    to    urge   against    its  pn'tensions ;    it    askr><l  to    come  tol 
town,  and  town  was  glad  to  n'ceive  the  petitioner.    In  the  crenticiaj 
of  a  metropulitan  garden,  then*  was  the  guarantee  of  a  new  lanj 
for  London.    It  was  compamtively  unimportant  tliat  the  prospc 
of  the  horticulturists  growing  anything  in  their  new  allotmeni 
were  somewhat  problematic.     They  had  not  given  up  the  «s»'fiil| 
old  nursery  at  C'biswick,  while  it  was  well  undcntoo*!   that   thej 
object  of  Ine  new  garden  was  to  set  up  a  '  moral  Crcmome.' 
the  brave  old  trees  whieh  akirtetl   the  pnddatk   of  Gore  Moui 
were  fctletl,  Httlc  mmps  were  rBise<!,  anil  little  slo|ies  sliced  of 
with  a  fiddling  nicety  of  timrh  wliicli  would  have  delighted  the' 
im]>ertal  gardener  uftiie Summer  Palace;  and  the  tiny  dcclivitiefj 
thus  insnutactured  were  tortured  into  curvilinear  patterns,  where 
9Ga-sand,  rhoppnl  coal,  and  pounded  brickii,  atonn)  fortlie  Rbseiictti 
of  flower  or  shrub.    The  area  had  to  I»e  enclosed,  for  it  was  carefuUj 
stipulated  that  the  lengthened  frontages  on   tlie   boundary  ronc 
should  form  no  portion  of  the  least-  to  the  Horticultural  Socict 
The  result  was  Mr.  Smirke's  Uenaissance  arcades  in  brick  at  thai 
upper  portion,  and  the  terracotta  imitation  uf  the  l.atcran  cloister, 
produced  by  the  *  Department'  round  the  southern  half,  neitheri 
tbcm,  it  may  be,  great  works,  but  lK>th  of  them  graceful,  ond  cvei 
refreshing  architectural  experiments  by  the  aide  of  their  gi?anti4 
DeighboDf.    To  the  stiuth  of  this  carden  lay  another  plot  of  1851 
ground  prctlestined  for  the  New  Exhibition.     What  was  wantlnj 
ivai  some  agency  to  put  it  there.     The  Old  Commission  was  well 
content  with  having  acbievetl  one  success,  and  assumed  the  atti< 
tude  of  a  parent — somewhat,  it  must  be  owned,  uf  a  parent  uf 
Sir  Anthony  Absolute  &i Ium)1 — towards  its  tender  suio-ssor. 
did  not,  indeed,  refuse  to  come  down  with  the  settlement,  but  it 
attaclied  pretty  sharp  conditions,  iiud  took  good  care  that  there 
should  be  trustees  to  look  after  ^'oung  Hojieful's  expenditure.    Al 
things  turned  out,  tlie  heir  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  a  lomewbit 

unhcruic 


Tha  ItOejTiatumai  Exhibition.  183 

onheroic  economy ;  still,  iintiii  experience  taught  otherwise,  it  was 
allowable  not  to  anticipate  these  qualities  in  a  body  composed  of 
Lord  Granville,  thepresent  Duke  of  Buckingham,  Mr.  Baring,  Mr. 
(now  Sir  Charles)  Dilke,  and  Mr.  Fairbaim.  The  steady-going 
society  of  Arts  was  called  in,  and  a  very  odd  triangular  arrange- 
ment consummated.  The  Commissioners  of  1851  leased  to  the 
Society  of  Arts  the  desired  plot  of  ground  for  ninety-nine  years, 
in  order  that  a  third  body,  viz.,  the  Commissioners  of  1862, 
might  cover  it  with  an  Exhibition  building.  Of  this  building 
one  part  was  to  be  considered  temporary,  and  either  to  be 
reckoned  the  property  of  the  contractors,  after  a  vast  royalty 
had  been  paid  for  its  use,  or  else  bought  out  and  out  for  a 
further  sum ;  and  the  other  part  was  to  be  held  permanent,  and  to 
pes*  for  the  term  of  the  lease  to  the  Society  of  Arts,  supposing 
the  speculation  to  be  solvent.  If  the  returns  were  insufiicient 
this  portion  was  to  be  pulled  down  at  the  close  of  the  Exhibition. 
The  motive-power  of  the  whole  scheme  was  a  solid  phalanx  of 
Englishmen,  some  of  them  men  of  capital,  and  some  men  of 
enterprise,  who  had  from  various  motives  subscribed  a  deed  of 
guarantee  to  the  amount  of  several  hundred  thousand  pounds,  and 
on  the  strength  of  this  deed  the  Bank  of  England  found  the  money 
for  the  immediate  undertaking.  So  there  were  the  Bank  that 
■dvanced,  the  subscribers  who  guaranteed,  the  New  Commission 
that  managed,  the  Society  of  Arts  that  advised  and  that  waited 
(or  its  windfall,  and  the  Old  Commission  that  *  sat  in  its  counting- 
house  c6unting  of  its  money.' 

The  ground  so  leased,  as  every  one  is  now  aware,  comprehended 
not  only  the  oblong  space  to  the  south  of  the  Horticultural 
Gardens,  but  also  two  long  strips  enclosing  those  gardens  to  the 
east  and  to  the  west,  to  one  of  which,  had  not  Parliament  re- 
cently interfered,  the  Natural  History  portion  of  the  British 
Museum  would  have  been  transferred.  A  further  complication 
of  a  material  nature  attended  the  project,  which  was  unknown  to 
Sir  Joseph  Paxton  and  his  employers  in  1850.  His  work  was 
simply  to  produce  a  building  to  contain  an  exhibition  of  industry 
•nd  indusb'ial  art ;  while  in  1862,  in  emulation  of  the  Paris  Exhi- 
bition, the  *  Fine  Arts,'  so  called,  i.e.  Painting  and  Sculpture,  were 
included  in  the  programme.  In  fact,  a  building  was  to  be  pro- 
duced which  should  combine  the  uses  of  the  Manchester  glass 
house  of  1857  with  those  of  the  historical  Crystal  Palace. 
Towards  the  execution  of  this  work,  irrespective  of  the  agree- 
ment which  we  have  perhaps  mentioned  rather  out  of  place, 
there  would  have  been  a  choice  of  several  conceivable  expe- 
dients, each  of  which  would  no  doubt  have  provoked  much 
criticism,  but  each  of  which  was  easily  defensible.    The  Com- 

misuoners 


mixsioncrg  had  it  in  their  power  to  build  a  permanent  or  eUe  a 
teiiijKirnrv  buiUling.  IT  tin;  biiilfiiiig-  wi-rc-  to  lie  |jerinaaenl  llior 
had  mily  to  <:hn*is<'  their  arrhiti'd  and  lliraw  upon  him  the 
resjionsibililv.  The  names  uf  the  leading  men  in  uie  profeastoo 
were  at  the  tip  of  everv  ouc*s  tongue.  U  the  security  of  an 
eminent  name  were  required,  t]ie  Commissioners  might  cither 
liave  made  tlicir  choice  once  for  all,  or  solicited  a  limited  cnm- 
petitiou  anuiiig  some  half-duzeii  of  the  most  disliitguishod 
architects.  If  they  pieferred  to  look  out  for  general  and  j>erbaps 
unknown  talent,  they  had  the  alternative  of  on  unlimited  com- 
petition. It  is  not,  however,  1o  be  denied  that  the  ingenious 
blundering  shown  in  the  Public  Offices  competition  had  ratlier  _ 
brought  that  expedient,  eseellent  as  it  is  if  judietously  worked,  ■ 
into  fliscredit,  and  so  we  are  not  ali()gether  dispose^!  Ut  blame  its 
non-use  in  this  case.  13ut  if  die  building  were  to  be  tempomn', 
a  shed  or  a  removable  greenhouse  was  all  tliat  was  wanted  for  the 
immediate  needs  of  the  five  montlis'  show.  Such  a  structure 
winild  also  have  lieen  incalrulablr  cheaper,  and  would  Itava'fl 
enjoyed  the  mural  advantage  of  being  void  of  any  suspiciim  of  ^ 
an  ijrritfre  pem/^  in  the  choice  of  site  and  style.  The  last 
cons  i  lie  rat  ion  was  not  unimportant  to  the  popularity  of  the 
Kxhilntion,  fur  [leople  were  slow  to  believe  that  the  danger  of  a 
dcj>ortiition  of  the  National  Gallerv  w.os  overjMisl.  I'or  a  tem- 
jxjniry  building  the  Mime  very  nbvious  expe<lient  of  engaging 
an  architect  of  tried  n*])utation  was  available,  or  else  Sir  Ji>seph 
Paxton  was  still  alive  to  show  that  he  couhl  improve  as  much  upon 
Sydenham  at  Brorapton,  as  he  improved  upon  Hyde  Park  ai 
Syilenliani.  ^ 

Every    eonecivablo   motive   seemed    to   exist   to    induce    thoV 
Commissionpfs    to   do    full  justice    t/i    tlie    nrthiteetuml    art    of 
England.     The  decade,  which  was  just  closing,  hail  been  one  of 
peculiar  fermentation,  if  not  of  advancement  in  that   way.      If 
there  was  any  reality  in  the  motives  which  cuuseil  an  exhibition « 
at  all,  they  must  have  been  motives  near  akin  to,  if  iicit  ideiiticalfl 
with,  those  which  would  have  prompted  them  to  make  an  effort 
to  gi-atil'y   the  world  >vith    a   worthv    building.       An  ejdubition 
building  su|>erior  to  that  o(  1851  would  have  been  just  as  much 
a  note  of  progress  as  a  superior  building-ful  of  goods  could  be. 
Both  one  and  the  other  would  be  alike  tymbolical  of  and  advan- 
tageous to  tlie  art-industry  movement.     Clever  minds  had  been 
naturally  set  thinking  on  the  problem  of  architectural   combina- 
tions of  iron  and  glass.*     The  various  exhibition  buildings  at 

Dublin, 

*  A  Cmtal  PftlsoG  is  tn  tbe  conne  of  n-ectioo  at  Amaicnliuti,  «id  (be  Bojal 
Acadcmj  Kxhihiiion  of  this  rery  ^nr  coninina  ihc  dcsigna  of  ■  large  iron  and 

k1«m 


2%e  International  Exhibition.  185 

Dablin,  New  York,  Munich,  Sydenham  (so  far  as  it  differed 
from  Hyde  Park),  Manchester,  Mr.  E,  M.  Barry's  Conservatory 
in  CoTent  Garden,  and  Mr.  Owen  Jones's  sketch  for  the  '  Palace 
of  the  People  *  on  Muswell  Hill,  were  all  but  the  last  constructed 
works.  It  was  almost  due  to  the  weil-known  existence  of  so 
much  study  to  give  it  vent.  The  very  patronage  of  the  Society 
of  Arts  ought  to  have  been  a  guarantee  that  the  profession  of 
architectural  art  would  not  have  been  overlooked ;  and  if  a  further 
reason  were  needed,  it  consisted  in  the  fact  that  there  was  still 
another  body  not  ofBcially  named,  but  patently  helping  to  pull 
the  strings,  that  newly  created  section  of  the  public  administra- 
tion which  is  emphatically  '  the  Department  of — and  which  is 
expected  to  foster — 'Science  and  Art.'  Under  such  circum- 
ilances  and  with  so  many  good  alternatives,  the  Commissioners 
deserve  the  credit  of  unwonted  ingenuity  for  having  closed  with 
an  expedient  which  succeeded  in  missing  every  advantage  uf 
every  other  scheme,  and  in  consolidating  the  opposition  of  every 
independent  interest.  The  credit  is  if  possible  enhanced  by  the 
circumstance  of  their  having  involved  official  '  Science  and  Art  * 
in  their  own  artistic  miscarriage. 

Those  sheds  of  iron  and  glass  in  which  the  South  Kensington 
Museum  found  a  temporary  domicile,  irreverently  nicknamed  the 
Brompton  Boilers,  had  been  run  up  by  a  young  and  clever  officer 
of  engineers  attached  to  the  '  Department.'  Science  it  was  con- 
cluded he  had  brought  in  with  him  ;  art  was  contagious  to  the 
locality,  for  what  would  be  the  use  of  such  a  department  if  it 
required  the  services  of  a  regularly  educated  architect  for  any 
behoof  of  its  own  ?  Captain  Fowke  had  engineered  the  Boilers, 
and  the  permanent  galleries  appointed  to  lodge  the  Sheepshanks 
pictures  were  also  his  handiwork.  One  morning  early  in  last 
year  it  was  announced  that  the  drawings  for  the  International 
Exhibition  were  completed,  and  that  their  author  was  Captain 
Fowke.  The  announcement  was  couched  in  grand  and  mysterious 
phraseology- — something  of  which  the  world  had  never  seen  the 
like  lay  in  the  South  Kensington  portfolios.  Acres  of  halls  and 
furlongs  of  walls  were  to  culminate  in  a  triad  of  cupolas,  of  which 
the  two  smaller  were  as  much  to  transcend  St.  Peter's  or  the 
Pantheon,  as  they  were  to  be  eclipsed  by  the  largest  and  central 
dome. 

*  Ncscio  quid  majus  nascitur  Hiade.' 


^»M  market  for  Preston  by  Mr.  Gilbert  Scott,  and  of  &□  exhibition  building 
*x  St.  Petenhnrg  by  Mr.  E.  M.  Barry,  both  of  them  indicative  of  considerable 
stadj,  mod  both  as  snperior  to  Captain  Fowke's  atracture  as  one  thing  can  be  to 
nwtJier. 

The 


1S6 


Tlte  Internationai  J^xftiliition. 


The  world  in  g^fncral  was  puzzled;  aoine  perhaps  lielioved, 
morp  held  tlieir  tnii(i;in'.  nnd  a  (vw  cominpnlml.  Nobody  would 
iiiU-Tfcrc,  Tor  the  Exhibition  was  Ut  be  built,  publiclv  apt'okin^, 
\vitli  nobo<l)r*s  monpy.  If  guarantors  came  forward  to  insum 
llie  siilv»'ncy  of  a  project  so  inaugurated,  it  was  thfir  own  ni&ir. 
Meanwhile  ibo  grim  lates,  Kclk  and  Lucas  Jlrotlirrs  bmoilpd 
over  tlic  Ticanic  design.  For  once  the  sheers  of  Alropos  wrn* 
used  to  mutilate,  not  to  ilestrov.  These  men  of  Iwse  and 
mechantcnl  mind  saw  no  (liffiealtT  in  carrying  out  th»  grand 
conception  merely  minus  the  one  feature  on  xvhich  its  prDJerlori 
relied  for  their  magntfitKnt  culminating  effecl.  The  central  ball 
with  its  gigantic  dome  must  be  omitted,  or  hundreds  u!"  tlioiti>nndg 
would  be  lavishe<i,  and  1HG2  would  come  and  go  and  no  Kshi- 
bition  would  take  place.  The  contractors  were  masters  of  tha 
situation.  So  big  a  scheme  in  such  raw  hands,  with  so  fc 
months  for  its  realisation,  stood  no  fiance  against  the  verdict  ol 
ried  unrnmantic  common  sense.     The  bargain  which  the  con 

ictors  were  called  upon  to  strike,  involving  various  unusu 
"contingcnciea,  was  sufiicioiitly  hani  to  justify  them  in  dictntin 
stringent  ti-rms   on   their  si<le.       llierc  was  no   time    and    Ie«* 
inclination    to    revise    and    remst    the    building    in    face  of  tlttl 
<tilemuia.     The  nutlioritics  had  proclaimed  so  confidently  tba 
there  was  one  building  and   Kowke  was  its  architect,  that  tlu' 
left  theraselves  no  retreat.     We  do  not  blame  Captain  Fowke ;  he 
bnrl  IjTcn  wafted  into  a  false  position,  and  it  would  be  to  set  up  n 
more  than  Roman  stnndfird   to  assert  that  he   was  in  any   wa« 
liound  to  refuse  an  offer  so  abnnrmallv  advantageous  as  lliot  o! 
becoming  jxr  mihtm  architect  of  the  world's  biggest  buildint^. 
How  far  Uiose  who  placed  him  tlierc  were  alive  to  the  « 
ceptional  importance  of  their  own  act  is  a  very  different  questi 
on  which  society  has  long  formed  it<  verdict.     The  presence  of 
the  Jilwenec  of  the  rentrol  dome  was.  after  all,  on   immntcriaj 
consideration  in  the  value  of  the  building.     If  it  had  been  carrie 
out,   it  Mould  have  been  a  monument  of  purpoM-'css  cost  am 
ineftective   bulk.      Its   al»rnre  only  <Ti*ates   a    vast   solecism  U 
purposeless,  as  inefTcctire,  and  as  needlessly  costly  iu  proportio: 
to  its  cubic  contents. 

The  nlaerity  with  which  the  Commissioners  bustled  fnrwtt: 
t<i  couBole  the  public  for  the  loss  of  the  central  pile  by  a  &hon 
of  cheap  prints  of  what  they  were  to  get.  bad  not  a  reassurl 
cflcct.      There  was  soirn-diing  itnatimt/  about  the  whole  buildlDi 
with   its    permanent  and    its   non-permanent  portions ;  and 
faidenusness  was  of  that  genuine  stam  p  which  appeals  as  forcibly 
tbo  instincts  of  the  million  as  to  the  science  of  the  expert.      Ev 
child  could  iLsk  what  was  the  use  or  the  beauty  of  that  in 

uiiuab. 


The  Intcmationai  Erhihitiou. 


1«* 


minahle  ran;^  of  blnnk  windows  alonj;  the  principal  fa^d?. 
The  hnnwbreakPTs  of  Brompton  were  m  competent  u  the  pro- 
frswm  i>f  thn  Rn^al  Aaitlemy  to  nppreciatn  tJiP  juilfj^mciit  which 
ihrtfw  trupitlna  M  i'nr  Imrk  as  to  he  niriaibli*  Imm  that  ranin 
foible,  nhiirh  tlt-visrtl  so  iinfrnliil_Y  <i  rurvatiire  for  their  main 
liutrs,  which  (livameJ  of  pniiluricij^  in  (jlass  the  Kohd  rflbct  unly 
attainable  by  opaque  matenals,  and  which  {loisiHl  the  rxrres- 
Cflfim  almost  on  the?  rid^  of  the  roof,  with  no  otlier  tamboar 
than  a  few  strcjiks  of  what  looketl  like  cheap  rlap-lKnrdin}^. 
That,  of  all  Ktvirs  wliirh  evrr  existei),  tho  one  to  wliirh  Louis 
XV.  Iia«  lent  his  valuabln  nami-  ronid  havr  piven  the  idea  for  the 
ikr-Ime  of  the  lhinkii):,'-t(iwcr»  was  an  ectentricitv  which,  by 
comparison,  hardly  calls  for  notice.  Those  who  took  the  trouble 
io  IiMik  at  tlip  engrax'inff  of  the  interior  needed  no  prophet  to 
tell  tlirm  that  thn  nave  would  be  <!;irk  without  bfing'  substantial  ; 
that  its  heavy  niiif,  nrposin^  un  a  continuous  clere.st(irv,  violntrd 
all  laws  of  composition  ;  that  the*  cnuplinf;  of  thn  iron  pillars  in 
each  bay.  one  in  front  for  show  and  to  bear  up  the  roof,  and  the 
othffr  beliind  to  prop  tlie  (galleries,  was  at  boat  a  batkimus 
makeshift.  The  one-sidcdncss  of  the  nave  on  tbc  plan  was  at 
IcBitt  odd.  Tlie  destruction  of  srair  by  the  inflation  at  each 
end  nf  vast  bullxjus  expansions,  not  balancetl  tjy  any  rrntre, 
was  clearlv  forefM>«'n  and  fruitlpssly  reprr^entcd.  The  bumdrring' 
ingenuity  by  which  t)ie  area  of  tlie  domes  was  tiltM)  up  un  ftteps 
was  pointed  out.  The  fact  that  those  steps,  carried  out  in  deal 
planks,  never  could  be  impressive  was  patent  at  tbc  first  glance. 
rhe  only  thin^  which  out  of  sheer  charity  was  sought  for.  but 
amid  not  be  found,  was  Mimcthing  to  praise.  U|X)n  the  w}ioIe, 
the  annexes,  being-  tnereir  shi^ds,  wen?  justly  considrrc-d  the 
most  successful  features.  'i*he  buildint;:  yrew,  and  men  found 
out  how  much  their  anticipation*  had  Cilh-n  short  of  the  pop- 
tmtoua  reality.  The  glass  dumes  were  far  from  raising  hopes; 
yel  few  forecast  the  actual  effect  of  these  tumid  bubblrs,  with 
their  uncouth  cuiratQre,  tlieir  g;i1dcd  spikes  atop,  their  thin 
beggarly  tambour  uf  iron  clap-Ujardiog,  their  green  and  half- 
imnsmT<^t^  tint  of  gooBclnhry.  1^ideou^  as  these  domes  may 
be,  the  ugliness  oyer  which  diey  squat  is  hardly  less  appalling. 
The  cupola — a  combination  of  architectural  lines  which  has 
eirrciscd  the  wits  of  so  many  great  architects  from  the  day*  of 
Augustus  downwnnls — is  pre-eminently  an  opaque  body,  owing 
its  beauty  to  the  comlnnation  of  form  and  of  solidity  :  externally, 
a  feature  which  cuts  against  the  sky;  intemally,  in  cases  where 
the  cupola  stands  clear  and  visible  from  the  ground-floor  of  the 
structure — as  in  all  the  world's  finest  cupolas — a  curvilinear 
cell,  patient  of  colour  as  well  as  of  form,  arresting  and  satisfying 


1&8 


The  International  Rthilntion. 


Uie  eye   within    its    own    circumscriptioD.      Accordingly, 
UglitiiiK  of  tlie  cupula,  whether  from  its  own  apex,  from  lunettes, 
or  from  the  tauihour,  haa  been  a  crucial  test  of  the  architect's 
capacity;  while  the  clitiicuhy  arising  outuf  the  relation  of  its  out-l 
wiint  Ui  its  inward  curve  lias  in  eminent  cases — such  as  St.  !'et**r*s' 
mid  Si.  Paul's — been  solved  by  the  costly  expedient  of  welding; 
together  two  cupolas, — the  smnller  enclosed  by  tlie  larger — the 
inner  one  to  be  gazed  up  into,  the  onier  one  to  form  the  sky-line. 
In  every  case,  the  use  of  the  cupola  invoked  the  notion  of  rfpmi- 
jour.     It  was  reserved  for  Captain  I'owkc  to  marry  the  lighting  ^^ 
ofhispilo  to  a  treatment  in  which  the  dome  itself  becomes  a  vaslfl 
one-sideil  distributor  of  unsubdued  light*  over  a  solid  and  other- 
wise darkling  building,  and  in  which  the  relation  of  the  outer  and 
the  inner  dome  was  simply  left  to  fare  for  itself  by  the  cijM-'dient 
of  diminishing  the  distance  between  the  two  to  the  thickness  of  a 
single  piece  of  glass.    WTiat  man  would  dare  to  face  tlie  riilicule  iff 
millions  by  capping  Weshninster  Abbey  with  a  glass  spire?     Yet 
a  glass  spire  M'ould  be  natural  in  comparison  witli  a  glass  cupola  \ 
for  a  ifpiie  is  only  intended  to  form  a  sky-line ;  while  a  cupola  hai 
also,  as  wp  have  shown,  to  sen'c  an  internal  purpose.      It  is  no  de- 
fence of  ihn  monstrosity  to  s.iy  that  crystal  architecture  requires] 
crystjit  (lotnes.      It  may  do  so  ;  but  ('nptiLiii  Kowke's  creatinn  wi 
as  we  were  particularly  told,  not  to  \»  a  crystal  palace,  but  a  Sijiif 
constructive!  ICshibitiun  buihling  of  brick  aiul  iron.     The  flames 
iu  particular,  entered  the  fieUl  in  comjH'tltion  with  St.  I'aul's  an 
St.  Peter's,  just  as  the  large  portal  was  proudly  proclaimed  toj 
exceed  the   'quantities'  of  the  portico  of  the  Lntcran,      Tin 
advuralcs  inusi  not  br  allowed  tu  blow  hot  and  cold.     They  started 
their  coach   to  beat  the  old-i-stablished  favourites  on  tlicir  owc^j 
line,  and  by  their  performances  on  that  line  they  must  be  judgcd^^ 
The  verdict  which  we  simply  gather  up  from  the  unanimout^ 
consultation  of  six^iety's  collective  jury  of  simples  ami  of  pro- 
fessors is — ignomnt,  pn-sumiituous,  tastelesi),  extravngant  failnr«u^l 
They  would    have  domes — tlic  world's  biggest  domes — and  thejH 
thought  that  this  bigness  would  be  accepted  in  conipensatiim  for 
ever)'   error  of  taste  and  every'  deficiency  of  material  solidity,^^ 
There  arc  erroi-s  of  judgment  which  bailie  the  critic,  becatue  th^f 
obtuseness  which  dictated   their    pcr]»etration    is   impervious  K»^ 
argument,  and  must  he  either  handled  by  Uie  unsatislnctory  pro- 
cess  of  simple  denunciation   or  else  left  alone.      It  is  vcrv  little 
pleasure  for  us  to  reiterate  that  tliese  domes  are  the  ne  jtiu*  ultra 
of  architectural  delinquency,  because  we  never  can  be  £ure  that 

•  Tbe  glare  from  lla*  tlvmn  w  so  intenRe  as  in  ihe  inUdltf  nf  a  liriglit 
Hctnnllj  toklll  ihc  flaiiiilioK  painti^d  glut  nt  die  rouixl  wiadowi,  ud  to  red 
it  when  Tiewd  fttnn  the  iiaw  to  the  ap{>earatic«  of  as  uye<{U0  icreeB. 


TliB  Intarnationai  Exhibition. 


189 


tbe  men  who  did  not  realise  it  h  priori -vriU  appreciate  it  because 
we  say  sn.  [f  we  ^nt  g'lnss  architecture  at  nil,  the  glass  dome  is 
R  Icptimnte  ennroinitant  of  the  glass  house  ;  but  there  everything 
is  struck  in  tlip  same  key.  In  the  glass  house  the  lijrhl  is  equally 
iliMtrihuted  from  every  quarter,  nnd  thr>  urchiteefs  }>kilt  is  espe- 
ciallv  shown  in  modifying  its  overmuch  intensity.  The  prnpitr 
paiftllcl  to  a  glass  dome  on  walls  df  an  opaque  material  would  be 
an.  opaque  cupola  perched  on  a  crystal  palace.  The  dome  of 
St.  1  eter's  stuck  upon  the  Syilenham  glass  house  would  not  Ixj 
more  incongrunos  than  the  Brnmpton  "■Dish-covers.*  Yes;  but 
consider  they  irost  so  Utile  for  thi-ir  siw?,  the  CominiKKioners  will 
plead.  Cost  so  little!  cost  more  tlmn  any  other  domes  in  the 
world  ever  did  or  ever  will  cost ;  for  every  lartbing  that  they 
cost  was  a  farthing  wrenched  from  tlie  guarantors,  wrenched 
from  the  sight-seeing  public  ;  sunk,  for  any  useful  object,  in  the 
def|w%l  jxiol  (if  tlie  Kr^l  Sr.'i.  Kuch  dotne  rn<it  its  ninny  tliou- 
samlii,  iitiil  every  shilltiig  of  those  thoueands  went  tu  build  up  an 
tbomination  hateful  to  the  eye  and  useless  for  the  objects  of  the 
tlxhibition.  With  no  domes  therr  would  have  been  Uttle  fear 
of  s  deficit;  anil  while  the  building  would  havn  been  severely 
hut  jnstlv  criticised,  it  wuuhl  hanlly  luive  bccume  a  laughing- 
stock III  jl  collected  Kurope.  When  Pu gin  Uild  the  preluU-  whn 
boihcnril  luin  to  du  iui|)ossibilities  for  tlie  money,  '  Add  eighteen 
pence,  my  lord,  and  liare  a  tower  and  spire  at  once,'  he  hardly 
coald  have  anticipated  that  within  so  few  years  of  his  denth 
official  Science  and  Art  in  Kngland  would  have  challenged  the 
world's  admiration  for  Imving  found  the  eighteen  peuce  and 
thrown  the  steeple  in.  With  all  its  exuberant  costliness,  all  its 
of  afterthought  in  so  many  of  its  features,  Westminster 
;e  is  a  pile  of  which  a  great  nation  may  be  proud  to  nil 
commg  genrnitions.  The  ni;iii  wh^i  mised  that  jialace  was  in 
vigDrous  life  when  die  idea  of  this  liroinpton  construction  was 
in  agitation.  lie  had  not  been  dead  a  year  when  its  design  was 
flaunting  in  all  the  print-shops.  So  short  a  time  did  it  take  for 
t>fficiAl  management  to  degrade  the  struggling  artistic  rcputatitm 
nf  England. 

After  the  great  sin  of  the  domes,  all  otlier  faults  in  the  build- 
ing might  sfcin,  if  not  piirdonablc,  at  least  eclipsed  bv  tlie  grand 
Inmsgressinn.  Ncverdieless,  there  is  one  peculiaiity  i"  c<»nnee- 
tioD  wiU)  those  domes  which  it  wo\ild  not  be  just  to  its  inventor 
to  overlook.  Thcdomcsarctwelve-sided.and  the  great  iron  piers 
of  the  lantern  are  eight  in  number.  A  professor  of  the  Fowkesiiui 
nrchiieclure  scorns  the  use  of  taml>our  or  pendentive.  What, 
llien,  could  l»e  done?  Then;  was  rwmx  in  this  dilemma  for  a 
itroke  of  ingenuity  if  potuiihle  superior  oven  tu  tltnt  which  ulruck 


L 


«ttt 


I 


out  the  glaa  dome.     After  all,  to  put  up  a  ^lass  tU>mn  wai  only 
to  tamper  with  material  in  wilful  flismgnnl  uf  all  lo^ic  or  tast?. 
Tlie  prublein  was,  how  to  torcurc  some  pre-cxittent  form  as  tha 
wildest  imagination  of  no  antecedent  architect  had  ever  dared  to 
do.     We  almost  despair  of  bcin^  abln  to  describe  this  feat  by 
words,   liul   WD   will    try.      ICach    dome,  it  will    bn  rpmnmlwrcil, 
opens  into  the  nave  and  intn  tlVo  transepts,  while  it  has  a  lotirtb 
opening  prepared  for  a  similar  extension,    but   cut   short,  and 
■erring  as  the    etitrancc.     The   four  angles  which  would    be 
formed   were  tlie    f<mr  oppnin^s  to   meet   together,  as  they  do 
under  the  tower  iii"  Wrstminiti-r  Abtwy,   are,   as   in  St,    Paul's, 
sliced   off^    so   as  to  convert  tlie  ffround-flDor   into  an   nrtagonal 
lantern  with  tour  brond  bides  to  the  four  cardinal  openings,  and 
four  narrow  sides    where    the   slices   come.     This   Jiiakes   eight 
anf;l<^  instead  of  four,  and  at  each  angle  is  placed  a  large  irocij 
pillar  supporting  the  structure,  and  serving  as  the  starting-poil 
of  the   eight  arches  of  dio   lantern.     Of  these  arches,   Iho  fa 
which  span  nver  the  gulluries  at  the  slices  are  narrmr,  anil  tlio 
which  fijjiiii  the  openings  are  broad,  each  arch  htAiif^  »-raieirrnI 
Captain  Fowkc,  having  to  bear  up  his  twelve-sided  dome  on  thesel 
eight  arches,  has  ronstruct'.'d  his  four  broad  arches  in  this  war. 
Take  a  capital  X,  and  assume  the  two  Imttom  terminal  points  t4^_ 
be  two  of  the  iron  pillars  and  die  space  between  them  tbc  widtU^I 
either  of  tlie  nave  or  trniiwpt,  and  assume  that  the  two  upper 
terminal   {loints  are  ivspcetividv  the  first  pair  nf  roupleil  shafts 
cm  each  side  of  the  nave  or  of  the  transept.*      Wei!  lltcn,  Captniii^| 
Fowke  has  thrown  two  diagonal  ribs  across  from  each  imn  pillrtl^l 
to  the  coupled  pier  on  the  other  side,  intersecting  in  the  middla 
and   so    completing   the   X  ;    and    has  then    made   his  arch,   by 
lining  the  A  lictween  the  pillars  and  the  ]M>int  nf  intcntretinn — 
thus  pi'ctu-nting  to  the  worhl  die  hitherto  unheard-of  motistntsity 
nf  a  crooklmckrd  arch,  horizontally  broken  at  the  simulated  kev- 
stone  which  masks  the  angle.     This  be  has  done,  not  once  ia 
some  obscure  comer,  but  twice  four  times  over  in  the  four  main 
arches  of  the  highest  and  most  pretentious  feature  of  the  wholo 
pile.     Viewed  a&  a  piece  of  engineering,  tlie  wnrkinansliip  may 
be  ingenious ;  hut  it  is  a  stroke  of  ingenuity  which  abandoiu  all 
claim  to  archttcctui^l  merit. 

At  least  it  might  have  t>een  hoped  that  the  Science  and  Art 
De|Hirtiiient,  with   its  costly  staff  of   teachers   and    its   bevy 
pupils,  might  have  devised  some  pretty  novelty  in  tlie  capital. 


*  Of  mane  the  proportiooof  lhcc&riialXi«notcorF(wt,M^dlitsat«  bctv 
tbv  nu'.  inm  piilftn  aiul  lliu  otxi  cuu|>lt.-<l  ibaA  is  Inn  tliaa  botwcni  mcli  pilliu  ii 
thr  utH'  \m  lUc  uthcr  si<le,  trvinu  Cu  Uic  gresi  widtli  uf  the  navr.    But  (Iil-  X-lil^a 
form  nau'ln  irtiL', 

albeit 


I 


Tftti  Intematimal  ExhUitiou. 


191 


■Ifaeit  even  in  plaster,  and  produced  some  graceful  contours  ia 
the  monldings,  albeit  rut  in  metal.  The  capitals  and  the 
aoaldings  arc  wortliy  nf  the  strurturi^  which  cnshrinos  them. 
Tlio  pl«n  of  chrapiicsa  in  t-()m|mriscm  with  the  Paxloninn  palace, 
so  nnhlushiiitrlv  put  fiirwaril  hv  the  IiUBltin^  adrorati's  of  the 
nnw  buiitliii^,  has  been  convuiientlv  diopped  since  Sir  C-harles 
Fiuc,  iu  a  letter  to  the  'Times'  of  only  a  few  lines  lon|?,  pub* 
tlid>«l  an  the  r»ih  nf  May,  rrmintled  the  public  that  the  post  of 
ibo  Crystal  Palace  in  Hyde  Park  plus  diat  of  Sydenham  was 
only  3^6,540^^  while  that  of  the  building  "f  1862,"on  the  sliow* 
io^  of  ita  own  friends,  was  a&  it  stoorl  4<1(>,()0()/. 

CapLiin  I'owke's  long:  annexes,  becauao  they  do  not  pretend 
10  bo  more  than  sheds,  are,  as  we  have  alreody  said,  assuming 
ibeir  •lability,  not  s<i  IkuI.  They  are  eng-inuering  works  carried 
out  by  an  engineer.  The  reastm  why  Scientrc  only,  without  Art, 
hts  hail    tu   do   wiUi    their  ctinstruction,   is,   that  dicy  Htand   on 

pond  which,   by  the  defunct   project,    would    havo  been    ron- 
ited  to  various  permanent  temples  of  the  Muses,  so  no  tnm 
anticipated  or  provided  for  their  continuance. 

Of  course,  no  visitor  to  the  Exhibition  who  has  made  his  first 
aoquuntintH!  with  it  since  dii>  nprnin^  can  fairly  judge  of  its 
luwed  areliitcetural  merit,  since  it  has  |>assei1*thruu(;h  ^[r,  Grace's 
transmutini;  hands.  His  |H?rfi>rmancea  arc,  undniibtediv,  i>pen  tn 
rritiriiim,  and  in  mrticular  we  think  certain  appositions  uf  blue 
and  ri-d  rloso  to  the  clerestory  windows  migrht  have  been  recon- 
sidered. But,  as  a  whole,  when  the  roilway-siwod  at  which  he 
lud  to  work,  and  when  the  imjMJSsibilily  under  which  he  lnhoun>d 
of  obtaining;  ,i  fair  sight  uf  his  own  work,  are  considered,  we 
iRDtt  sny  that  Mr.  Crace  has  very  honourably  and  nbly  acquitted 
btmsrlf  ofa  work  which,  lu  less  wilUnj^  hands,  would  have  been 
both  Uiankless  and  impossible.  He  deserves  particular  credit 
ibr  haviuj;  proposed  nil  tliruut^h  to  subordinate  his  own  colora- 
tion to  tlie  advantage  of  the  diint;s  nxlubitcd. 

The  mnml  we  should  venture  to  dmw  from  this  arehitectnral 
fiasco  is  that,  as  we  know  tm  the  best  of  authority  that  *  a  donble- 
miiuleil  mail  is  unstable  in  all  his  ways,'  so  the  world  has  now 
hiamml  tho  instabUity  and  tlie  ntfence  of  a  double-minded  build- 
ing, and  it  hna  reseiitii)  it  arcunlii^rly.  The  Kxhibition  shed, 
bovever  unsightly,  would  have  bi*en  tolerated.  A  permanent 
'  P^ace,'  as  it  is  now  the  fudiion  to  call  every  largt-  structure, 
woald  have  fairly  roprescnlrd  the  objects  of  those  who  desired  to 
make  llnunplon  the  artistic  and  litenuT  centre  of  Lomlon  and 
the  world.  But  here  was  a  hytmd,  which  woidd  and  which 
would  not  claim  to  be  permanent — o  thing  in  which  tJje  most 
ilixtracting  effects  and  the  most  lavish  waste  of  money  were 

resericd 


reserved  for  Uiat  part  wLich  prt>fessed  to   be  tempomrv.     The 
notion    of  tlie  domes    beinjif    retained    as   an  eternal  spectacle 
from  Hyde  Park  and  the  Soutli-Wcstcm  line  wtis  nn  tdco  sulQ>j 
riently  liumiliAtinK'  to  national  self-rcs|>ect.     But,  on  t}ic  other] 
side,  it  was  di/Bt-ult  to  nnticijiuU;  that  Kuch  hig  surn&  would  Iin.va1 
been  devotcil  to  such  big  iiiRatiuiis  merely  to  serve  as  a  suinmer'a 
pastime   and  then   be  forgotten.     Again,  if  the  domes  and  tlie 
nave  went  down,  how    utterly  dull  Mould  be    the  aspect   of  thttj 
residum'v  pile.    Hideous  as  tbi>sc  dome»  ai-e,  their  hideousness  isj 
of  the  heroic  and  truculent  order.     Without  them  and  the  navsj 
the  building  would  simply  consist  of  the  endless,  drear\'  range  of] 
magnilir-d    stables    along    the   Cromwell    Koad,    flanket]    by    the 
Louis  XV'.  }>avilioiis,  and  of  that  nondescript  gaxebo  with  the 
ruddled  back-front    which   i»  now  sacred  to  tlie  hosi)itnlities 
M,  Veillard   and  ^fr.  Morrish.      All  that    is  now  Exhibition,  bi 
rontrasted  with  picture-gallery  or  eating-room,  would  revert  lo  tlial 
primitive  condition  nf  a  rubbish-heap  and  a  nettle-bed.     Under! 
either  altemntive  England  will  have  built  in  liasto  lo  repent  at 
leisure.    If  the  iron-suppurteil  gIas»-roofed  sheds  remain,  Europe,] 
overnni  with  t-rystal  pnlaces,   will  point   to  the.  domes  and    rho 
courts,  and  sav  that  thrsc  mnnunients  of  Hritish  iillicinl  lasti*  arci 
the  biuest  and  the  most  purjMJsidess  crystallt^-rhalylicate  hnbbh 
which    earili    has  yet  egurgitated.      If  the  galleries   alone   at 
spared,  we  shall  owe  to  Science  and  Art  a  public  building  whichj 
has    straywl    over   more  rttod*    of  ground   and   devourwl    morel 
bricks  Ut  less  advantage  than  anv  structure  ever  yet  niised    l> 
tween,  in  tinm  and  in  spare,  ISahylnii  and  C'liicagi>.      The  thin 
altrrnative   of   a    fioiuicial    failure    involving    entire    demotilio 
would  be  a  very  costly  exemplificatioa — well  deseri'ed,  ihougb^ 
not  agreeable  ttt  the  guarantors — of  the  parabolic  warning  to  sit 
down  and  count  llie  cost  before  beginning  the  tower. 

Friendlv  critirSf  to  be  sure,  l<Hik  nmculnr  as  tli<>v  pass  alois 
tlie  empty  window  sjiaces,  and  drop  important  wonU  iinplvingfl 
some  new  revelation  of  art-processes  suited  to  the  English  climateV 
— expansive,  out-of-iloor   mosaics,  hard  and   cheap,    capable   of 
being  washed,  yet  incorrosiblc.    The  huge  cartoon  in  the  ^  Works 
of  Art  on  loan',  Exhibition  at  the  South  KrnsingCon  Museum 
adumbrates,  we  are  told,  this  prowss.     Wc  should  Ik*  the  last  toj 
discourage  any  well-conct-ivrti  project  for  the  exterior  dL-ctiralitit 
of  London  buildings  suited  to  LoikIihi  atmosphere,  for  we  bavi 
long  considered  that  to  be  a  prime  deaidenttum.     All  we  say  in,] 
why  huUd  up  so  vile  a  Ix»d\  on  which  to  make  yuur  iij)CTimenl?| 
Patient  and  remedy  are  bodi  of  them  the  work  of  your  hands 
If  you  are  polychrotnatically  inclined,  at  least  |jaint  a  Venus,  am 
do  not  bedizen  a  squaw. 


The  Inlernational  Exhilition, 


1«8 


W«  fear  that  we  ouimit  compliment  the  (Tommiuioners  by  the 
UMitiuD  that  the  «xcellf!nce  of  their  arrangcmentg  has  covered 
the  defticts  of  the  building.  The  terrible  mismanafrcment  by 
trbirh  cx}iibiUirs  worn  sumetimes  permitted — sometimes,  even, 
as  in  the  case  of  tlie  food  tru|tliy,  iirg;pd— to  cli^  up  the  nave 
with  every  species  of  inconf*ruoiu  oltstruclion,  1ms  l>eeti  so  fully 
cxpofted,  and  the  CoDimi»sion  have,  we  doubt  not,  paid  mt 
hcavUy  for  the  partial  rectification  of  their  error,  that  we  should 
have  gladly  passed  this  topic  over.  Dut  we  are  bound  to  advert 
to  it  as  a  proof  of  the  diiiregard  of  common  prcH^autions  aiul 
cominnn  calculations  of  size  and  height,  which  in  the  case  of  a 
builder  leads  to  accidents  destructive  of  life  and  projierty,  and 
in  the  case  of  a  general  to  one  of  those  exceptional  events  which 
stamp  the  defeated  captain  to  all  ages  with  the  unenviable  noto- 
riety of  total  incapacity.  Even  the  greatest  failures  have  seldom 
resulted  from  a  total  forgetfulness  of  every  incident  of  success, 
lo  nearly  every  case  details  are  laliorifmsly  pondered  over, 
and  perhaps  ably  plaaned ;  but  some  single  important  ele- 
ment has  been  overlooked,  and  its  absence  is  sufficient  lo  defeat 
the  best' for m<M]  combinations  contrived  in  disregard  of  its  indis> 
jMrnsability.  The  ball  m.iy  l>e  disposed  reganlless  of  expense — 
the  brightest  tlowers,  tlie  most  artistirally-ttrraii£;ed  lights,  the 
amplest  supper,  the  in{»t  acromplishod  band  may  all  be  pro- 
s'ide<l,  only  the  lady  of  the  house  may  have  forgotten  that  men- 
sursliun  forbiils  lirr  to  hold  more  than  600,  and  so  her  attempting 
to  squeeze  in  IbO  will  have  nullifietl  all  her  forethought,  all  her 
taste,  and  all  her  cxpener,  and  only  succeeded  in  rendering  her 
whole  assembly  thoroughlv  wretched. 

The  plotting  out  of  the  nave  was  just  toch  a  cmcial  test  of 
the  capacity  of  the  workmen  for  their  work.  It  is  dillictdt  to 
imagine  that  the  Conimitision  could  have  faileil  to  foresee  that 
erery  exhibitor  would  scramble  for  his  hit  of  that  favoured 
ground,  and  that  it  was  the  base  of  the  whole  arrangement. 
If  so,  they  ought  to  have  apprehended  tliat  their  only  chance 
of  success  lay  in  making  a  plan  and  in  sticking  to  a  plan.  The 
circumstance  on  which  tliat  plan  should  have  been  founded 
was  the  breadth  of  the  nave — the  one  redeeming  feature  of 
the  building.  That  breadth  would  have  enabled  them  to 
arrange  the  space  either  for  one  central  line  of  objects,  as  in 
1851,  or  for  two  lines,  with  a  wide  avenue  down  the  middle. 
Tlie  more  clniinants  they  had  to  judge  Ixrtween,  the  easier  wa» 
the  Xusk  of  refusal.  Those  who  aspired,  whether  Knglish  or 
foreigaers,  to  an  allotment  of  the  favoureil  area,  were  bound  to 
have  produced  the  dimensions  and  the  designs  of  the  objects  or 
stnicttin-9  with  which  tliey  were  competing.  There  ought  to 
Vol.  112. — No.  223.        "         O  have 


have  been  one  moment  when  Uie  buildinf^  opOTations  were  com- 
parativel)'  finished  and   before   the   fittings   bad    begutL      Tins 
moment  would    have  lieen   the  time  to  hove  ndjudifaUsi  on  the 
distribiitinn  of  thr  nave  objrcts  (wc  cannot  In'ing  nurst-Ircit  to  cal]^ 
them  '  trophiffs').      All  tlint  wax  wanted  was  a  plan  of  the  area»^ 
a  list  of  the  objects  with  their  desi^rns,  and  a  bcv}*  of  sappers  to 
oJfer  up  planks  and   p<>lrs  at  the  required   heifrhu  and  breadths. 
If  possible  also  there  nuglit  to  have  been  Mmie  cleviitiKl  |H)int  uf 
Ticw  from  whidi  to  judge  of  the  whole  elTeet.     Tliis   |minl  of 
view  was  ju&t  the  defieienty,  for  between  the  galleries   which .^ 
(TOSS  the  ends  of  the  building  and  the  nave  itself  at  ttiat  momentA 
were  interposed  the  vast   intricate  scaffoldings  of  the  cupolas.^ 
But  notwithslauding  tliia  want,  the  ulemeatia  on  which  to  form  a 
decision  were  sufficiently-   numeious  and  suflicienllv  distinct  to 
have  ]e<l  any   body  of  men,  except  our  Conuni&sioners,  to  safe 
conclusions.     What  they  did  no  one  who  saw  the  nave  in  its 
first  condition  can  ever  to  his  last  hour  forget,  and  those  wlio 
were  not  so  privileged  have  a   lively  portraiture  of  the  scene  &tfl 
page  152  of  Mr.  HoUingshead's  'History  of  the  International  Kr-^^ 
bibition.'     The  (jiroves  of  lilarney  were  order  and  good  taste  in 
comparison  with  the  conglomeration  of  telescopes,  organs,  light- 
houst-s,  fountains,  obelisks,   piekles,  furs,  stulVs,    porrelain,  dolls, 
rocking-horses,    alabasters,    stcarine,   and    Lady    Godiva,    wLich 
rctlured  the  nave  t4>  a  striking  similitude  of  a  traveller's  dt^si :ri ptinn 
of  Hug-lane,  Canton.     We  grant  that  some  few  of  the  ugliest  anil 
biggest  obstructions  were  removed  in  the  few  days  before  May  1 ; 
wu  grant  that  a  great  many  mure  were  put  to  their  paces  during 
the  thriM.'  first  weeks  of  May,  to  the  equal  damage  of  their  tle- 
tudetl   exhibitors    and    discomfort  of  tin;    jiublic  who    came    bi 
see  a  finisheil  sight;  we  grant  that  the  brilliant  thought  flashed 
across  some  official  mind  that  there  were  shrubs  at  Kew  which  ^ 
might  with  artistic  advantage  be  distributed  among  the  contii-H 
butions;  we  grant  that  busts  and  statues,  originally  put  aliout  in 
dark  corners  in  favour  nf  the  trnphieSs  have  been  brought  fom'ard 
oo  their  eclipse  ;  wc  gmnt  that  bv  means  of  hustling,  and  twisting, 
and  changing,  something  like  a  central  avenue  has  lieeii  obtained. 
When  we  have  granted  all  this,  wc  arc  constrained  to  add  that  these 
ameliorations  were  not  taken  in  hand  till  a  hurst  of  complaint  and 
of  dorision,  unexamplml  in  its   intensity,  from  press  and  private 
critic,  had    pierced  the  panels  of  the  Ixiard-rotim  dimr.      N'ot  to 
have  listened  to  this  would  have  been  to  have  sinned  heroically, 
aiul  hernir  action  ol  any  sort  was  not  in  favour  with  tlicCommis- 
ftion.     'JTiev  simply  actril   like  any  other  weak  lulministrators — 
they  called  up  a  dictator  from  the  mnks,  and  hid  llieir  faces  while  fl 
lie  worked.     The  pica  that  the  nave,  thanks  to  Mr.  Cole,  is  now  ^ 

inditforentlj 


I 


TV  SUentatumal  Ezhibitim.  195 

indifiereiitlr  well  amngcd,  mar  be  admitted  without  getting  rid 
of  dae  fact  that,  as  the  Commissioners  left  it,  it  was  the  tie  jJus 
ultra  of  Iwingtiiig  inefficiencj. 

We  are  not  blind  to  the  considnation  that  the  foreigner  is  as 
great  an  oBender  as  the  Englishman.     The  long  French  screen  is 
in  itself  a  aerioos  obstacle  to  sight  and  transit,  and  the  candle 
cases  frmn  the  rival  kingdoms  of  Belgium  and  Holland  mav 
eqnallj  compete  in  ugliness  and  incommodiousness.     The  English 
dome,  where  Minton's  fountain  stood  almost  alone,  furnished  a 
atrildng  contrast  to  the  complicated  masses  of  show-cases  which 
fill  the  western  area,  partly,  no  doubt,  because  the  orchestra  stoixl 
diere  on  the  opening  day.     This  solitarr  success  was  not  over- 
looked  bj  the  officials  who  had  permitted  the  Tasmanian  boats 
and  the  Canadian  deals  to  intrude  themselves  before  Hnnlman's 
elaborate  painted  glass,  so  they  took  the  earliest  opjiortunity  of 
lioisting  op  the  Victoria  gold  obelisk    in   its   immediate   rear. 
Messrs.  Minton  must  be  the  most  patient  of  mortals  not  to  have 
protested  loudly  and  publicly  against  the  great  wrong  which  has 
been  perpetrated  in  placing  this  erection  in  the  particular  spot 
where  it  most  effectually  mars  and  eclipses  their  graceful  creation. 
Bnt  we  do  not  admit  the  delinquencies  of  the  foreign  exhibitors 
as  any  excuse  for  the  blunders  of  the  English  Commission.     If 
those  gentlemen  fear  to  regulate  the  caprices  of  their  friends  «%'er 
the  sea,  they  simply  prove  themselves  not  strong  enough  for  their 
place.     One  of  their  mismanagements  has  not  and  never  can  be 
rectified.     The  north  side  of  the  English  portion  of  the  nave  had 
been  assigned  to  the  wide  class  of  furniture,  and  it  had  b<*en  the 
intention  of  the  exhibitors  in  that  department  to  have  united  in 
displaying  their  richest  productions  on  the  main  line  and    in 
decotating  the  courts  under  the  gallery,  so  as  to  contribute  most 
effisctoally  to  the  whole  effect.     But  the  Commissioners  allowed 
themselves  to  listen  to  the  carpet-makers  and  gave  up  the  par- 
titions between  those   courts  to   their   comparatively    ineffective 
productions,  while  the  principal  w^orks  in  furniture  have  been 
baiushed    to    a    back    court.      We     believe    the     carpet-makers 
threatened  a  secession.     The  result   is,  tliat  a   very  im]iortant 
portion  of  the  whole  exhibition,  one  of  the  first  which  is  visitw! 
by  the  stranger  who  enters,  as  the  greatest  number  do,  from  the 
east,  is  one  of  the  least  attractive  to  the   casual   public,   instead 
of  forming  a  principal  element  of  the  general  attractiveness. 

Here  we  suppose,  as  everywhere,  the  Commissioners'  fears 
betrayed  them.  The  weight  of  the  guarantors'  supplicatory 
purses  weighed  on  their  souls,  ignorant  as  they  were  that  tlie 
first  secret  of  maintaining  credit  is  to  look  credit  and  to  talk 
credit.     The  man  who  is   always   whining  of  his  poverty  and 

o  2  doing 


doing  little  shabby  things,  need  never  he  rarprised  if  he  is  taken 
for  aud  treated  as  a  perwAi  of  problematic  income.  A  Rojral 
Coinmissioa  which  grrudgfnJ  its  p^istajje-slamps  f«r  its  own  nfficial 
comniUDtcati<im,  which  did  not  tliilo  imt  ndmisKions  ti>  its  own 
jurors  till  it  liad  by  Its  hesilation  rubbed  tht*  act  of  its  frnire,  and 
wliirb  trouiiti^d  the  j^ains  od  every  catalogue  aold,  could  hardly 
have  expected  to  win  that  public  confidtriKT  wliicli  would  have 
been  *o  cflicacinus  to  the  permanent  surce&s  of  the  Exhibition. 

TTiL-  Commissioners  were  not  much  more  lucky  in  their  pub- 
lications than  tUev  wero  in  the  building  and  its  arrniigeinenls. 
The  humiliation  to  which  they  had  to  submit  in  withdrawing 
Mr.  Palgravc's  red  hnndbonk,  after  owninp  tlmt  their  interest  in 
it  was  measured  by  2f/.  for  cnrh  copy  sold,  is  punishment  enough 
for  the  fully  which  they  committed  in  sanctioning  a  lxH>k  which^ 
though  bearing  a  name  so  rt«|>ectahie,  had  the  misfortune  of 
alike  ofTeoding  the  criticised  by  its  freedom  and  the  critics  by  the 
rrudenesB  of  its  composition.  Mr.  John  Hollingshead,  bavii^ 
adopted  the  wiser  though  less  ^jjartin  system  «(  general  laitda^ 
tinn,  has  been  allowi-d  tn  sell  in  i>pare  '  A  ('tincise  llistory  of 
the  Intematiimal  Exlubition  of  1H()2,  its  rise  and  nrogrras,  its 
building  and  features,  and  a  summary  of  all  former  Kxhibitions. 
liiustroted.  Printed  for  Her  Majesty's  Commissioners '  (to  re- 
capitulote  its  somewhat  dithymmbic  title.)  This  Hollings- 
hrtul's  Clirontrln  of  the  ninptirrnth  century  is  a  work  in  which  a 
large!  amount  ol  misi'clliineous  information  is  served  up  in  a  style 
which  often  leniinds  the  retrospective  reader  by  its  gaiTuIou*  pom- 
posity, less  of  the  quaint  annalist  of  the  sixteenth  century  than 
of  Dr.  Dillon's  imrrativc  of  the  lyjrd  Mayor's  pn>gress  to  Oiford. 
The  Cominissiuners  of  1851  nwjuired  much  credit  by  their  pub- 
lication  of  the  lllu»trsted  Catalogue  and  of  the  volumes  of  Jury 
Rejiortii,  and  1802  was  of  course  expected  to  give  birth  to  similar 
publications.  This  was  an  opportunity  too  good  to  be  lost  to 
show  liow  much  the  new  authorities  hail  improved  upon  their 
more  simple-minded  predecessors.  The  Catalogue  of  ls51  was 
intended  as  a  reconl  of  the  sight-^tiic  work  of  1862  as  a  milcb- 
cow  to  the  Commissioners  and  an  a<t vert i sing- van  to  the  con- 
tributors. Its  pages  were  tlimwn  into  the  market,  and  the 
niddest  sum  uf  o/.  each  was  6xed  upon  as  the  value  of  a 
self-iiiKcrtcd  notice  iu  a  work,  of  which  by  the  end  of  June  only 
six  parts  or  twelve  rla!>iw>s  had  ap|ieareil,  without  any  n-tum 
having  been  made  to  the  disapjtoiuted  exhibitors  for  the 
delay.  But  if  the  Commissioners  charged  5/.  for  every  page, 
and  if  they  allowed  the  exhibitors  in  addition  to  pnv  for  their 
own  wiMxlcuts,  they  were  at  least  U*o  liberal  to  exercise  any 
vexatious  censorship   over  the    matter  or   the  woodcufas  roniri- 

butcd. 


I 


d 


The  Interaaiional  EihibitioiL 


197 


Soted,  Accordingly,  a  large  wedding-cake  occupies  one  entire, 
page;  levcral  contributors  cram  the  bimk  with  reiterated  ct  _ 
grarinf^of  the  ir-wlnU  which  thev  had  received  at  the  Exhibitions' 
of  1851  and  1S55 ;  two  bulls'  Leads  top  the  piifT  of  a  vendor  of 
mnstanl,  starch,  an<i  blue  ;  one  exhibitor,  not  satisfictl  with  hovjng' 
rf^z-ived  a  lestiinonlnl  from  Lloyd's,  actiintly  gives  a  fac-simile  of 
tlie  liignatun-s ;  and  a  dcalrr  iii  snucrfi  at  Hirnam  demotes  ncnrlv 
a  page  to  the  figures  of  tlirc;c  bottleii  witii  their  fancy  lal)els.  But 
the  prize  of  vulgarity,  bad  such  been  offered,  would,  as  far  as  the 
Cntnloguc  has  vet  gone,  been  justly  assignable  to  Mr,  Frederick 
V  ersuiuun,  exliibitor  of  '  ladies  atitillaininable  [«cl  lifn-preservcr  ' 
(part  i.,  page  51),  who  tn'ats  tin?  publie  to  b  sensation  uumh-ut 
of  one  young  ladv  with  the  skirt  uf  her  crinoline  in  a  blaze,  and 
another  young  lady  screaming  at  the  sight — in  design  and  execu- 
tion alwut  equal  to  the  fami>us  *  Ha  !  cured  in  an  instant' tiwthacbc 
print,  or  to  that  gentleman  with  the  particoloured  bead,  so 
umiliar  to  us  in  the  pages  of  our  Bmd&haw. 

The  Gimiuissioners  had  still  a  chance  left  of  redeeming  their 
literary  cre<lit  by  undertaking  the  publication  of  the  J  ur}*  Kejwrts 
in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  occasion,  and  tliey  allowed  the  Society 
of  Arts  to  take  this  office  off  their  hands.  The  pretext  will  of 
CDurte  be  urged  that  the  Exhibition  itself  is  but  the  emanation 
of  chat  Society,  and  that,  in  allowing  it  to  umlcrtakf^  the  literary 
work  in  connection  with  the  Exhibition,  the  Commissioners 
merely  distributed  the  labour  among  the  persons  most  coniiwicnt 
to  perform  it.  But  this  excuse  blinks  the  main  nuestiim.  nhicli 
is  one  of  propriety  and  not  of  pocket.  No  one  would  have  blamed 
the  Conimissiun  fur  seeking  its  editors  out  of  that  Society  if  it 
pleasefl,  for  no  one  expected  that  Lord  Uranville  would  spend  his 
ermings  orer  proof-sheets.  But  the  ostentatious  announi-emcnt 
that  the  Rnval  Commission  is  either  too  pcK>r  or  too  timid  to  risk 
making  itself  n*5)ionsiblc  for  the  publication  uf  the  work,  which 
was  at  once  to  si*r\'c  as  the  official  record  and  the  practical  moral 
of  its  proceedings,  was  a  confession  too  humiliating,  one  would 
bare  thought,  to  have  been  wrnng  from  it  even  by  the  instances 
of  a  Icgitm  of  misgiving  guarantors.  It  was  as  if  the  House  of 
Commons  had  lK>gged  tlie  Social  Science  Congress  to  relieve  it  of 
the  rcsponitibilitf'  of  printing  its  Blue-books. 

We  have  no  sympathy  m  ith  that  philosophy  which  laughs  at 
mankind's  natural  appetency  for  dress  as  an  clement  of  pcHnp 
and  ceremony.  Tliis  appetency  always  has  existed,  and  it  always 
will  exist  till  the  crack  of  doom,  it  is  fouml  in  Fnjuce  and  in 
DahomeTt  and,  until  the  recent  incTeasc  of  tlie  regular  army. 
New  York  was  fain  to  make  the  best  of  the  uniform  of  its  fire- 
brigade.      That  the  Court  dress  of  England  should  hap|ien  to  be 

among 


among  the  ugliest  of  conceivable  vestments  is  the  mere  accident 
of  the  divergence  of  state  and  ordinnry  hnbilimcnt,  wluch  was  E 
collnteral  result  of  the  French  Revolution  stereotyping  the  evening 
dress  uf  Louis  XVI.'s  time  as  the  '  Court  habit,**  and  clothing  ui>  in 
the  morning  or  at  ordinary  parties  *  after  the  ideas  of  1 789,'  Pre- 
vious to  that  event,  while  men  *gladio  cincti '  still  imlulgetl  in 
rich  materials  and  bright  rolours,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a 
'court'  dress  genorically  different  from  'evening'  dress.  It  wa* 
simply  n  (juestion  of  degree  in  the  case  of  persons  not  entillcK)  to 
an  official  garb,  who  were  naturally  accustomeil  (o  apjM-ar  in  their 
best  rull-dres&  on  the  grc-atest  occasions.  We  do  not  accordingly 
blame  the  (>>mmissioneTs  for  trying  to  make  the  opening  on  May  1 
a  Court  ilrvoi  ceremonial  ;  but  we  must  observe  that^  wiUi  their 
usual  luck,  thev  inam-d  n  gixMl  idea,  Tw(t  exjMHiirnts  wen;  o]>en 
for  iheni.  Kitber  they  shuuUl  have  given  places  in  the  procession 
to  all  who  accepted  the  *  official  *  invitation,  and  thus  converted  a 
poor  and  straggling  display  into  an  Imposing  demoastraticm ;  or 
they  should  hare  gone  a  tittle  further,  and,  without  ordering  any- 
thing, luive  put  it  to  the  good  taste  of  tlic  whole  array  of  season- 
ticket  holders  to  appear  in  their  best  to  swell  the  jiomp.  We  ore 
sure  the  KifltHlom  of  England  would  itot  have  been  deaf  to  tuch  an 
appeal.  As  It  Mas,  they  did  neither.  The  only  quid  pro  quo  they 
offered  to  shorts  and  silks  was  a  prom  isc  of  front  scats,  which  simply 
affronted  the  graver  class  who  stuck  to  swallow-tails  and  trowsers, 
and  which  was,  after  all,  not  performed,  while  the  body  of  the 
building  looke<l  as  black  and  uninviting  as  a  public  meeting  in 
Freemasons'  Hall,  In  fact,  making  the  galleries  aiKl  not  the 
area  the  place  of  honour  was  a  great  mistake ;  as  those  who  bad 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  Lord  Granville  address  the  Duke  of  Cam- 
bridge and  Lord  VVestbury  in  dumb  show  could  not  hear  one 
note  of  music,  and  those  who  enjoyed  the  music  missed  the 
ceremony.  In  this  respect  they  have  mended  their  ways  in  the 
programme  fur  the  distribution  of  prizes  on  July  11 ;  not  »o  in 
another  resjiect  to  which  we  must  n«-xt  call  attention. 

The  compofiition  of  the  procession  showed  the  narrowness  of 
those  who  had  the  ortlering  of  it.  It  was  intended  to  have  its 
official  side,  and  ii  bad  it.  It  was  also  intended  to  have  its  scientific 
and  artistic  side,  a«  tbo  inauguration  of  the  great  metropoUtut 

*  ll  ronn  nnl  be  forgouen  thkt  tli«  Conrt  irtu  hat  mfSenA  a  furtb«r  dhad- 
TaiilitE>^  iu  th«  «c<;iKiroy  which  dictali^B  cloib  u  iu  d&uaI  roatrnoL  It  wu  ateaiil 
for  velvet,  »n(l  mitt  brtl  whra  black.  Nn  one  wlm  but  *fen  the  lole  and  ih« 
proKiit  Speaker  Btid  Liml  Chi-lm«ford  In  ihe  Mack  vclvec  Court  irvM.  huitittilc  vo 
tfa«  grave  digniliea  wbich  thejr  hsw  filKtl.  can  deny  (bal  it  is  very  bM-omin^  on  a 
hiudwme  num.  We  rvtneubtr  the  Bmutina  which  the  late  Lord  FiuwiUiuu 
mule  lipr  ■ppt-nring  bI  a  \tY^  in  >  blsck  relret  tuit,  *ct  tiffhy  ifa«  Oarl«r.  Uc 
wu  nuversall^  sJmitted  to  be  lh«  b«tt  dmi«d  mso  at  Sl  Juues'i. 

basilica 


I 

I 
1 


TTie  hitejTiatwnal  ExhihifioiL 


199 


basilica  devoted  to  the  culture  of  the  Muses  ami  of  the  grimy 
nvtnnliH  of  stpnm  ami  ciml.  We  no  Itin^r  rmplo^  syniboliral 
rppri'si-ntatlfjns  \n  tmr  pnMressimis,  execpt  on  Lord  Major's  day 

'ill  I^ihIod  and  Lady  Gcidiva's  day  at  Coventry,  but  in  compensa- 
tion we  expect  to  sec  representative  men  Malkinfrout  their  respec- 
tive <rhanit-t<Trs,  Lrt  us  see  liow  far  the  Coinmiisiun  pntvidect 
ihe-se  men.  In  projxjrtion  as  the  more  liberal  commercial  leg-isla- 
tion  of  modem  limes  has  diminiithed  the  significance  of  commer- 
cial g'uilils,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  has  the  importance  of  volontary 

t»Mocifttion9  for  intellectual  ends  been  more  and  more  wideir 
scognised.  In  L<>ndnn  alone  there  are  more  sftrietics  than  we 
ran  venture  to  enumerate ;  tfvery  one  of  them — to  the  credit  of 
tlie  nation — de[)ending  for  its  existence  on  the  unpaid  and 
unjcn^di;ed  labours  of  men,  all  of  them  respectable,  and  many 
clistin<nii8hed  by  talents  and  social  position,  each  of  which  had 
an  interest,  more  or  less  extensive,  in  some  department  of  the 
Exhibitinn.  These  societies  wanted  neither  monev  m»r  me<lals; 
bat  a  place  in  tlic  cen-moni:il  would  Itavr  br>cn  a  proper  rrco^^ni- 
lion  of  their  services  in  those  pursuits  for  which  tlii-y  and  the 
Exhibition  alike  existed.  Two  of  them  did  walk,  and  these  were 
the  Society  of  Arts,  which  had  a  material  interest  in  the  whole 
aflair,  and  the  Horticultural  Society,  proud  of  its  neighhimrhoori 
and  its  lien  on  the  till.    These  were  tlit?  inevitable  family  circle,  ti> 

^yhich  llic  Dish-covers  had  to  l>e  at  home,  aud  their  exclusive  pre- 
invc  Urom ptonised  the  ceremonial.  13ut  where  were  the  other 
important  bodies — some  ancient,  some  of  our  own  generation — 
mostlv  tnroqMirated  by  chartirr,  endoweil  with  various  privileges 
and  di^iities  in  furtherance  of  theirrespectivcobjects,  all  of  which 
bad  an  equitable  claim  to  appear  by  official  representation  on  such 
an  occasion  ?  We  need  only  recapitulate  the  Royal  Society,  the 
Society  of  Antiquaries,  the  rtoyal  Academy,  the  Royal  Swiety  of 
Liti.*rature,  die  lu>Yal  Institute  of  Rritish  Architects,  the  Institute 
of  Civil  Engineers,  and  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  We 
mention  tliese  distinguished  Associations  in  no  exclusive  spirit. 
It  would  have  been  politic  to  have  extended  the  invitations 
much  further,  but  these  Institutions  bad  a  specific  equitable 
claim  for  recognition;  while,  as  it  is,  they  and  the  Exhibition 
stood  divorced  at  a  moment  when  a  loiiKer-sIghtetl  policv  would 
have  striven  tu  build  up  a  broad  and  solid  popularity  on  tlicir 
Dnite<l  sufTrap^s.  VVe  neither  expect  nor  desire  the  consummation 
of  the  scheme  which  is  to  centralize  civiliTation  in  tlie  tract  of 
ground  between  Hyde  Park  and  the  Fulham  Road  ;  but  certainly, 
if  its  promoters  liad  desired  to  ruin  their  own  plans,  they  could 
not  have  chosen  a  wiser  course.  The  complex  ingenuity  which 
succeeded   in   afironting    Verdi,    mortifying    Dr.   Bennett,    and 

cxpuititig 


exposing  M.  Costa,  is,  comparatively  speaking,  a  private  matter, 
on  wincK  it  docs  not  come  within  our  scope  to  ilwcll.  We  awail 
with  curiosity  the  results  of  July  11.  As  It  is^  the  public  does 
not  uxm  inclined  to  break  out  into  much  enthusiasm  at  the 
prospects  of  a  cercmonv  which  bears  a  close  iamily  likeness  to  a 
school  s{>eech-dav  on  a  llrobdi^ag  scale;  in  which  the  heads 
of  the  leading;  5rms  in  HirminKham  and  Lancashire  will  pro- 
bably represent  the  g«Hjd  Uttlo  boys  in  round  jackets  ami  wliitw 
ducks.  Indeed  the  irreverent  question  is  asked,  Why  give 
medals  at  nil?  Juries  to  report  are  no  doubt  desirabte.  But 
tbey  are  called  away  from  thtiir  legitimate  functions  by  bein^ 
reduceil  to  the  duties  of  a  wholesale  distribution  of  one  uniform 
low-level  token  of  recognition.  Noljody  will  be  much  flattered  ; 
and  many  rann(»t  fail  to  be  deeply  mortified  at  an  arrangremenl 
whicli  cannot  do  more  fur  Maud.slav  nr  Miiitoii,  Sevres  or  tbo 
I'ajKil  munufactury,  than  fur  tiic  illustrious  pioneer  of  reformed 
bootjacks.  It  is  no  answer  to  point  out  that  the  introduction  of 
'  honourable  mention '  has  somewhat  rectified  the  objection  in  a 
roundalwut  way.  The  system  of  trraduntcd  reward*  has  also  its 
own  appropriate  objections ;  and  tlie  unb^iught  tnfui'Rial  appro- 
bation of  capable  judges  is  the  most  natural  and  tlie  best  reward 
to  which  the  conscientious  exhibitor  can  took  forward. 

But  enough  of  buildings,  books,  ami  Commissioners.  We 
gladly  pass  on  to  the  more  pleasant  and  more  instructive  task  of  ^ 
examining  the  thinjj^s  exhibited.*  The  reasonable  anticipatioafl 
with  which  the  present  Exhibition  was  started  was  that  of  a 
marked  progress  since  1851.  To  quote  but  one  out  of  many 
inventions  which  had  uken  gigantic  strides  during  that  periotl, — 
photography  was  then  in  its  infancy ;  now  it  is  the  livelihood  nf 
thousands  and  the  recreation  of  tens  of  thousands.  We  sliall  not 
dilate  upon  the  items  of  industrial  progress,  such  as  the  sub* 
atitution  of  eJectricity  for  the  casting  of  statues,  and  for  tb* 
costly  old  methods  of  gilding  and  silvering,  or  the  new  dyeing 
processes,  interesting  as  they  are,  or,  though  we  do  not  forget 
their  sur])jiS3ing  imjHirtance,  vi\nm  the  developmmts  of  ma- 
chinery, whic-h  wnulil  li^id  ns  far  Itevond  our  limits;  nor  upon 
ihc  picture  galleries,  for  thrae  present  no  {xtint  of  comparisoD 
with  1^61.  and  are  rather  a  supplemeut  to  tlian  a  portion  of 
an  Exhibition  conceived  on  the  type  of  Its  predecessor.  That 
Kxhibition  started  fn>m  raw  material  and  industry  simple.  In  its 
next  chapter,  as  it  were,  it  showed  the  niachtuery  of  that  industry 

*  •  Exhibits '  Droniptouio^  We  tnut  that  on  fiitnra  «Htor  of  Noah  Wsteter 
will  fcwl  il  bis  dulj  to  include  this  word,  or  the  Brill  greater  shnininslioii '  Siuisxe.' 
We  nl»o  truit  that  be  will  not  fed  it  Dcc«uary  to  expUio  *  uopbj  '  si  '  N.  8.  as 
obsiicle.' 

ia 


TTktf  Ttiifimational  ExhibitiotL 


£01 


in  its  double  aspect  of  liein^,  by  its  intrinsic  mechsnism,  among'  i 
hi^est  pnxluL'ta  uf  human  intlustrv,  ami  l>v  thi>  piir|M)rt  of  thi 
meu'liauisin  (Uu  prtKluwr  of  n-sults  worthy  of  stutlv  on  tlieir  own 
account  even  irrespective  of  the  means  eiii|il(iycd,*  It  tcrniiiiatrcl 
deap  in  that  bonlcr-lnnd  l>ctwcen  indu&try  and  pure  art,  which 
it  kppears  to  be  the  mi»sion  of  our  age  to  explore  and  to  mnp, 
uid  in  which  we  way  hope  to  make  good  our  footing;  now  that 
we  have  learned  not  to  use  'arti&t*  assvnonymoua  with  *  painter,' 
and  'art*  with  'jiatnting.*  It  is  in  its  aspect  of  a  great  ex- 
ponent of  this  which  wo  may  term  constructive  ait — in  op|>o8i- 
tion  to  the  mimetic  art  of  paintinrr  and  sculpture — that  we  shall 
ckieflv  examine  the  new  Lxhibition,  with  a  hope  of  deriving 
■ODie  farts  for  our  rmnfort  or  our  admonition  as  to  the  present 
ooudition  of  art-feeling  in  Kn^lancl.  As  a  first  step  in  the 
investifrntion,  we  must  briefly  visit  the  phenomena  of  industrial 
art  in  the  other  rountries  contnbutinj;  to  the  World's  Fair. 

But  first  let  us  notice  once  for  all,  in  order  to  blame  and  to 
pass  on,  that,  while  art  has  certainly  mnile  deciilnl  progress 
between  the  two  dates,  so  have  also  pufTery  anel  shojipinpss. 
181)2  is  better  and  it  is  worse  than  l>i51.  It  would  be  a  thank- 
ien  Uuk  to  recapitulate  its  points  of  deterioration  ;  the  specimens 
which  we  have  given  of  llic  lllustmted  Catalog-ue  tndic«te  their 
nature.  VVe  wish  to  deal,  as  it  were,  with  the  exhibition  within 
the  Exluhitioii,  ami  carnass  tlie  influence,  tor  ^ikkI  ur  liad,  of 
llie  various  ohiects  whicli  liave  an  art  intention,  Mhether  vicious 
or  exalted.  As  for  the  thinc's  which  arc  made  to  sell  and  not  to 
show,  we  had  rather  not  help  to  advertise  them  by  any  parti- 
cular dispraise.*.  Tliey  clog  the  Exhibition,  they  vitiate  the 
perreptioiis  i]f  the  bewildered  million,  they  damage  the  commer- 
cial chances  of  the  conscientious  manufacturer.  In  other  respects, 
they  no  more  beluuK  to  the  enterprise  than  the  liottled  stout  and 
the  ices  which  are  daily  consumed  within  tlie  building.  At  worst 
there  is  one  h<i]>efui  sign  in  the  more  technical  appreciation 
which  critics  endeavour  to  form  of  the  affair  tlian  they  attempted 
on  the  former  occasion.  Uncritical  gitod- humour  prevailrd  in 
1651.  Art-talk  was  then  still  but  a  dialect,  extensively  studied 
and  honoured  with  lip-worship;  but  'fine'  and  'pretty'  cx- 
bausU-'d  the  popular  phraseology.  The  rich  expanse  of  malachite 
in  the  DemldnfT  doors  provoked  universal  praise,  and  not  a  voire 
was  misetl  to  denifunce  dii;  insipidity  of  tiie  design.  The  Aus- 
trian furniture  was  a  general  favourite,  and  no  one  rose  to  prove 


^        •  This  11  ft  ^i«tiiifriftn  too  often  ofer1ook«d.    Two  looms  upon  exsMljr  ihv 

nmc  yriaciyW.  but  out  of  llirm  Mt  to  th«  agliMl  sad  tlii;  other  (o  the  mMi  brsn* 

I        tiful  paUtTQ,  arc  equally  vUEtic  as /rorfMMtf  maeltia«> }  u  art />iWuc«ft  Uiej  lwv« 

H    a  very  diJK-reat  tbIik. 


Its 


its  vnnl  of  Bimnlicity.     What  »ha.U  we  saj  of  the  fashion 
judf^ni;  in  lH<>2r     Honestly,  wc  must  reply  that  this  in  one  uf 
tliose  questions  which  may,  with  equal  truthfulness,  l)e  answered 
in  very  »lilTcrcnt  ways.     We  believe  that,  if  the  truth  be  spukeo,  the 
prcsi-nt  Kxhibitton  will  be  found  to  hen  g;reat  scene  uf  disenchant- 
meuts  on  all  sides.    The  ardent  votaries  of  art-projn'ess  upon  high 
principles  will  have  discovered  how  strong  a  hold  the  old  con- 
ventional trivialities  still  retain  on  the  purses  of  the  purebasing 
public;    and    the   Gallios    will,   for    the    first    time,   have    binm 
made   sensible   of  n   movement  which    has  been  collecting;  its 
forces  while  they  were  Ia/.i!v  repeating  their  antiquated  formulas. 
With  whichever  side  the  victory  may  ultimately  rest,  it  will  not 
be  the  direct  results  of  the  Exhibition,  taken  hy  themselves,  that ' 
wilt  deride,  hut  the  grailiml  working  of  ideas,  lirst  sown  in  many 
minds  within   its  courts,  but   germinntin;^  in  (|uiet  \i>ng  after  the 
din  and  tlie  excitement  of  the  Uromptnn  show  have  passed  away. 
We  need  not  linger  long  in  lands  where  for  many  genemtions 
art  has  be<^  I'rminine,  not  masruline,  in  its  rliararterislies  :  among 
people  who  work  from  the  lu-art  and  not  by  the  head,*  by  iusliiict 
tiut  by  r(*ason  ;  in  those  oM  OrientJit  regions  where  the  apprecia* 
tiunofcolour  is  instinctive;  where  the  patient  manipulation  of  detail 
knows  no  fatigue ;  where  the  goldsmith  and  the  jeweller  arc  held 
in  universal  honour;  where  each  nationality  has  its  own  limited 
scries  of  forms,  within  which   the  artificer  labours  successfully, 
but  beyond  which   he  does  ni>t  seem  gifted  to   advance.      India 
on  the  one  side,  and  Turkey  on   the  other,  are  tlm  limits  of  this 
feminine  phase  of  art  as  exhibited  at  Rrompton.     Its  educational 
value  to  us  has  not  been  sufficiendv  appreciated  as  our  teacher  in 
points  in  which  the  art  of  Europe — the  art,  iliat  is,  of  tlie  head. 
and  not  alone  uf  the  heart — is  apt  to  be  most  deficient :  such  aa\ 
the  jubilant  use  of  colour,   the    fearless   employment  of  costlyJ 
material,  the  delicate  handling  of  minute  detail.     These,  we  say,i 
are  feminine  attributes;  and  tlie  masculine  art  of  Europe — tha\ 
art  which   is  founded   nn   the   study  of  the   human  figure — must^ 
not   despise  Oieir  gracefulness   if  it   aspires  to  tread   the  path  of 
perfection.     As  it  is,  we  arc  sorry  to  see,  in  some  instances,  is.^ 
conirary  influence  at  work,  and  the  native  instinct  vitiated  bffl 

*  l^e  bi»tury  ot  Europe,  from  the  cftrli«sl  to  the  IstMl  agvs,  prov«t  what  niiglil 
l««oi  St  firtt  sifhl  &  panulox,  tbul  Hk  art  of  Ih«  b«»d  u  thv  art  which  its  iQoct 
pngrcMive  uu  dsring.  To  taki;  Ibr  case  odIjt  uf  Unlj,  what  «u  iIil-  iTthDologinl 
composition  of  the  medtBral  and  ifao  rvQuiManc^  Italiui?  He  wns  partly  Uiis 
dowcodaot  of  that  old  lulifto  itock  to  whom  tbc  welt-ktiuwu  *  Excudcui  alti,'  ate 
winiing  baid  bMo  ftddreued,  partly  of  tbe  Nurilivru  iribvs  who  swarmed  dowv 
upon  tbe  Saath,  so  (fast  on  neithOT  aiilf  rould  bo  boast  flf  nstunill)'  artistic 
tracMtort.  Yet  s  long  eoatwe  of  nationul  rducadoD  uader  fsvonrabl«  circuuMtanees 
hai  mads  tlw  aiedlitTBl  aod  modcni  ItAliooi  a  tTpolif  utUtui  ntce.  Tber*  U 
much  hope  for  Euglaud  ia  this  eotuidention. 

a  ridiculoos 


i 


The  Jntemational  Exhihituinu 


sot 


ft  rjtliculous  apinfc  of  tbc  vulgar  rorms  of  European  trade  pro- 
duction, lit  the  ludiaii  deitArtment,  for  iDstancc,  bv  tliL*  shIo 
of  rirli  stuflit  and  delicate  Bombay  work,  we  behold  tAblc5, 
wfas,  and  pianoti.  cnn'cd  far  awav  by  native  finf^cn,  bot  jno< 
lied  Tor  tlie  Hurti|x>aii  ninrket  ujKin  forms  which  are  alrcadyi 
lilv  looked  npnn  at  home  as  vuli^ar  and  antrdntcd. 
aboormnl  civilixation — not  Kuropean,  bat  not  Oriental  eithnr,  agj 
India  and  Islam  arc  Orienul — of  the  three-quarters  civilij!«d 
Tartars  of  China  ami  Japan  must  not  detain  us,  for  we  have  to  pass 
un  to  tliosp  i-cmnlr!es,  living  in  or  pc«>pled  by  Christian  Kurupe, 
wbn  have  seriously  L-iitored  the  lists  ot  the  great  tauriianirnt. 

Ku.Hsia,    if  n4)t  actually  retro^^ssivc,   is  stationary,  and  to   h0^ 
itationary   with  aurli   an  cnijiire  is   next  doiir  to   bf.'in}r   retro-' 
ereMlvo.      Sunu-   sili^cr  and  enamelled    bookbindings  and    plate 
chiefty  for  ckurrh  purposes^  eKhihiting  a  style  combininj^  modcra 
fn>lin^  ^vith  reminiscences  of  Byzantine,  of  renoisaance,  and  even, 
like  it£  protntvpe,  of  the  flamb<>yant  which  we  suspect  to  have 
peusetl  from  Poland  into  Muscovy,  with  some  i^raceful  ideas  lK»r- 
rowed  from  tlic  native  art  nf  ('irc-assia,  and  a  huge  vigorous  mosaic 
of  i>t.  Nicholas  on  a  gi»ld  jfround,  flanked  by  two  others  of  n  more 
recCDt   lyp**.  sum   up  die  novelties  which  this   vast   realm   ron- 
tribntes.      The   larpe    Imperial   porrelain  vases  are  merely  gfMKl 
imitations  on  aCaPsarian  scale  of  Sl-vres.    The  floral  incrustations, 
follow  tlie  pietra  dura  of  Flormrc  ;  and  the  strawberries,  currants, 
Ijerbprrie^,  and  rasplierries,  mimicked  in  half- transjwi rent  stones, 
ore  neither  l»ettiRr  n<»r  worse  than  tlie  similar  mimicries  of  1851  ; 
while  at  the  Im'sI  it  is  an  ignoble  function  for  the  State  art-nionu- 
(•ciory  *}i  such  a.   nation    to    challenge   the    western  world   tu 
sdnire  the  pips  of  a  sham  currant  ami  the  filaments  of  a   make-* 
believe  giKJseljerry.    On  tlie  tiOier  hand,  that  noblest  of  veneering 
processes,    the    manijmtatiuii  of  nialarliite,  of  which  Russia  dis- 
jilaved    such    stujieixlous  Sfiecimeiis  work<nl   up  after    sntli    vile 
desi^^ns   in    li<51,  is  wholly  without   a  representative.      We  were 
in  hiapcs  that  this  time  we  might  have  seen  equal  excellence  of 
baodling  and   equal  grandeur  of  scale   married  to   purer  forms. 
England  is  the   last  country  which  has  a   right  to   complain   of 
Ruasia  for  want  of  progress  durinjj;  tlie   |ia.st  decade,  but  the  fact 
is  iignificative.      Perhaps  indeed    the   cluimrter  of  the   Kussian 
exhibitioD  may  be  referred  to  an  altered  policy  and  a  better  sense 
of  the  true  inlerests  of  that  empire,  which  lie  tn  the  develninnent 
uf  raw   materials  rather  than  ia  tlie  production  of  manufactures, 
vhkli,   in  a  country  destitute  of  coal,   can   only   be  reganled 
as  exotics.     The  art  manufacture  of  Spain  begins  and  ends  with 
M.  Zulooga's  spirited  revival  of  the  Damascening  pn)ces3,  which  is 
to  good  as  by  iu  sclitarincsi  to  be  a  reproach  to  a  country  which 

with 


with  such  a  history  and  tuch  resources  hns  not  better  profited  hj 
its  opportunities.  Judicious  little  Portu^il  rests  comfortablr 
coatt;iit  with  the  ^nodness  nf  its  mat(!n.il  prHdiictinns.  The  rit'al 
courts  of  Italv  ami  Komc,  distinct  nationalities  for  this  turn,  testify 
in  the  picturia!  mosaics  and  the  cameos  of  the  Papal  city,  in  Sfll- 
viati's  successful  copies  of  the  Mumno  glns»>wc>rk8  and  of  the 
early  mosaics  of  Wnii-n,  lus  rlnlMirati!  table  nf  glass-ninrtiuctry, 
and  his  rlcvor  adaptation  of  the  inosaicliits'  priuL-ipIn  ot  f^ild- 
ing^  to  the  production  of  ff  old-one  losing  f^Uss  tnuuldinj^  and 
ornaments  proof  a^inst  all  din  or  scratching,  in  the  Hora.1 
incrustations  of  Florence,  and  in  Marquis  Campana's  artificial 
marbles,  to  that  ingi-'uious,  toilful,  and  wiUial  jrraL'cful  industry 
tii  which  the  niudern  Italian  mind  so  well  appreciates  Hic 
value.  The  vigorous  though  sometimes  crudely  coUmred  porce- 
lain which  Marquis  Ginori  of  Florence  has  produced  in  copy 
of  the  old  Capo  da  Monte  ware ;  and  Siffnor  Castellani  of  Rome's 
felicitous  revival  of  the  jewellery  and  goldsmiths*  work  of  Greek, 
Etruscan^  Roman,  and  Medimval  days,  though  each  in  its  way 
merely  mimetic,  stand  in  the  first  class  of  imitations.  We  claim 
for  E»elB"(l  ^^^^  comely  but  plump  dauie,  conscious  of  her  own 
}^mk1  looks,  whom  Mr.  Gibson  has  sent  to  the  Italian  court  in 
tinted  marble,  and  called  the  Wnus  of  Marriage. 

That  Loose  bundleofnaltonalitrpstn  which  the  Duchy  of  Austria 
lends  a  name  pickc^tl  up  upon  the  abandonment  of  die  prestige  of 
theCarlovingian  Empire,  evinces  with  all  those  chanict^riBtic  dif- 
ferences which  might  be  supposed  to  distin^ish  tlie  Teuton  from 
the  Southerner,  a  rrady-mnney  yet  artistic  adaptability  to  present 
tastes  curiinisly  akin  tii  that  which  distinguishes  its  foes  arrnss  the 
Al|>s.  The  various  fuims  pntduced  by  ihi*  |Nirtiiershipi>f  the  glass- 
blower  and  of  the  chemist  may  not  be  high  art,  but  they  are  all 
ingenious,  many  of  them  decidedly  pretty,  and  taken  all  round  cora- 
mendably  cheap,  Hnbenicht's  stam|MKl  and  coloure<l  leather  wall- 
hangings  deserve  mure  than  a  |>assitig  glance,  A  n-ady  sale  has, 
we  believe,  cewanled  Austria's  safe  ambition  on  tlie  score  of  art, 
while  her  prixligal  display  of  carefully  revised  map^  and  geogra- 
phical mfxicls  indicates  the  scientific  bent  of  her  graver  minds. 
That  fxingloraemtion  of  the  other  German  States,  which  puzxlet 
unlearned  Englishmen  by  masquerading  as  the  Zollverein,  aims 
at  more,  and  performs  less.  Prussia's  costly  porcolahi  and  silver 
work  arc  stifl",  stately,  and  academic  ;  and  the  erowdi?d  shopful  of 
Dresden  cliinn,  with  its  figurantes  in  shepherdesses'  dre5.ses  and 
its  nymphs  in  nn  tiresses  at  all,  shows  how  accurately  yet  how 
tamely  this  generation  can  go  on  copying  a  |^ase  of  art  which 
lost  all  its  value  when  it  ceased  to  reiiresent  the  feelings  of  the 
friToloua  age  which  gave  it  birth,  onu  which  no  thinking  nan 

caa 


4 


* 


TTitf  ItUemaiional  Exhibition. 


205 


I 


t 


I 

I 
I 


I 
I 


cut  now  look  upon  without  remcnibcnng  how  near  in  date  were 
ihe  d(iy»  of  ilic  Pare  au  Ccrfs,  and  uithe  Petit  Trianon,  to  those 
of  the  T(-ni|>I(!  and  tite  Place  de  lu  Revolution.  The  Bavarian 
Akliens  appeaU  to  our  syntpathics  hy  proving  at  how  mudcTatr  a 
price  pictures  can  be  copied  and  printed  iu  oil  colours.  CLcap 
art  is  ^<HxJ.  but  wc  >vant4.'d  a  little  also  of  Munich's  dear  art.  In 
Bavaria  and  in  KheuiKh  Prussia,  and  to  a  ccrmiii  dearer  all  ovtt 
Gennany,  a  scIhmiI  of  revired  Gothic  art  has  spruii|r  up  within 
the  last  thirty  years,  having  its  centres  at  Colo^s^ne  and  at  Munich, 
which  claims  to  compete  with  the  similar  revivals  of  France  and 
Enf^land,  and  yet  all  that  the  German  Gotbicists  have  found  to 
show  at  the  world's  fair  is  one  small  ivory  shrine,  besides  a 
carred  anil  |Hunlpd  rptabU-  and  a  coloured  statue  hid  away  in  a 
distant  ^llery.  In  run)|M-nsatioi),  the  shoj>kre}K?rs  of  r'rankfort 
atkd  of  Hamburgh  have  apiiealed  to  John  Bull's  purse  with  a 
Uviflb  display  of  that  manufacture  which  consists  in  twistinf; 
stag's  hurnsi  into  furniture,  combining  tlie  ininiinuin  of  beauty 
with  die  Duutinmm  of  risk  to  the  flesh  of  im|)atient  and  the 
raiment  of  careful  filters.  We  are  sorry  to  see  the  monosyllable 
*  sold  '  so  often  repeated  ou  these  articles, 

Belgium  of  course  revels  in  lacoa,  otherwise  its  ait  manu- 
factures belie  expcctnti<m.  'lliere  are  some  coarsely  finished 
chimney-pieces  and  inferior  Tcoiers  tapestry;  and  besides  them, 
yrt  Itod  little  which  calls  for  notice,  except  the  tall  Gothic  pulpit 
of  wood  by  Messrs.  Goyers  of  Louvaia,  which  occupies  the  same 
po&ition  iu  the  west  dome  as  the  gold  pyramid  in  the  eastern. 
Its  technical  finish  is  praiseworthy,  but  the  whole  design  is 
sptfitless,  and  the  carved  panels  cannot  l>e  acquitted  of  the 
•ensoous  sentimeutalism  which  haunts  tlie  religioU!>  art  of  the 
modern  Koman  Catholic  Church,  Ixrth  in  its  Italian  and  its 
Gothic  shape.  Ak  restA,  Belgium  boasts  of  a  huge  candle- 
trophy  ;  and  so  does  Holland,  which  also  displays  itt  wooden 
G<»thic  pulpit,  by  Cuypers  of  Ruremond,  less  elaljorate,  with 
tirutty  though  timid  decoration.  Sweden  ami  Norway  stuml  off 
frcm  the  art  contest,  though  the  group  of  Wrestlers  in  the  former 
cpuatry  has  a  kind  of  rude  energy,  and  so  practically  does 
Switzerland,  which  has  never  found  the  way  to  improve  the 
wood-rarvinj;  and  land  sea  pc-jwinting  industries  of  Lucerne  and 
Inberlachen  into  schools  of  ait  Denmark  is  more  promising. 
The  royal  porctitain  manufactory  of  Co|>cuhagen  is  little  more 
thjui  a  reflex  of  Sevres,  very  cre<)itablo  indeed  for  so  small  a 
nation,  hut  no  way  indicating  original  power.  In  the  smaller 
contributions,  however,  of  private  manufactories,  we  ohserre  a 
trpdency  to  the  reproduction  of  characteristic  forms  of  ancient 
Scaodinaviaa  art  appropriate  to  a  kingdom  whose  sovereign, 
whatever  else  he  may  be,  is  a  distinguished  arclucotogist^  and 


significative  we  trust  of  the  ri»e  of  a  national  school.     Wh( 
we  state  tliat  aj^ainst  the  pillars  in  the  Dani&h  portion  of  the  nave 
■tand  fitalucs  b_v  Tliorwal<l9cii,  and  pmmim-nt  amiHij;  ihein  tlie 
majestic  Jasnn,  we  luiV4_*  said  thai  in  sculpturv  Denmark  is  fore- 
most of  tlx!  nations,  althou;^li  the  world  at  larg'e  verv  justly  claims 
some  share  in  the  man  who  worked  at  Kome,  and  whose  jcrenius 
was  first  fostcrod  hy  one  who,  bom  in  a  foreign  laud,  made  himself 
»  name  in   Knplish  literature.      Greece  shows  its  douhle  nation- 
lUity.     In  its  rich  embroideries,  and  in  A^athan^los's  marvellous] 
resuscitation  nf  the  old  thoug;h  still  Itvin?  schfMil  of  minute  wood-  ' 
carving  cr^'stallised  in  Mount  Atho%  we  see  the  genuine  '  mmlern 
Greek*  Christianised  and  Slavonised.     In  the  hosts  of  C^nis, 
of  Athens,  and  of  other  mytholng-iral  ami  typical  wnrthies,  we 
remf^isn  the  artifirinl  llclh-m?  nf  the    At)umian  st:hiM)ls.      The 
'Ionian*  display    lH*lc»ni;s  i-xrlusively  to   the  first  claxs.       Some 
South  Ampticim  republics  are  at  Urouipton,  tliat  is  all.      Bmzilf 
snug  and  pn»perou8  like  its  mother  Portu)|n>l.  sends  a  tempting' 
diBplay  of  nntuml  w(>nldi  anil  a  little   upholstery  art,  not  wortliy 
of  notice  in  itaelf,  but  indicating  a  people  which  we  trust  may  j 
ere  long   become  rich   enoujjh    for   busy   leisure.       The    United^ 
States,  which  in  18M   astonished  us    by  its    nugficcts  of  gold, 
commemorntcs  1862  by  a  frame  full  of  the  innumerable  notes  of 
pinny  banks  fancifully  engravc<l  with  various  emblems.     Power, 
whose  Greek  Slave  was  one  «f  the  delights  of  the  former  display,  , 
■gain  a^lventures  a  female  6gure,  but  in  1862  he  only  gives  us  a  I 
Strapping  stiff '  California.'     I  lowever,  that  penchant  for  s<-u]pture 
which  has  so  curiously  manifested  itself  in  the  American  race  is 
represented  by  Win  H(«mer's  Zenobia^  shown  in  the  Italian  court, , 
antl  by  Story's  (x>ntriinitions  to  the  Roman  display  in  his  Cieopati 
and  in  his  Libyan  Sibyl — the  latt.er,  weshould  appndirnd  (though I 
we  have  never  seen  it  hinted),  a  work  conceived  with  the  poli- 
tical aim  of  tTpifying-  the  rf'generation  of  the  African  race. 

Wi-  have  thus  tnivflli.*d  nnind  the  world,  and  at  last  we  find' 
ourselves  in  face  of  the  twn  great  rival  eshihiting  realms,  th*» 
haoghly,  exulting,  self-eontiiiiiMl  h" ranee,  and  the  vcntureanne  pro- 
gressive British  empire  with  its  growth  of  half  a  hundred  colunics. 
The  French  display  is  eminently  typical  of  the  nation  which 
makes  it,  alike  in  iu  bt^t  points  of  character  and  in  thos«!  wenk- 
nessns  which  have  ever  sUna]  in  the  way  of  France's  perfert 
success.  Compact,  symmetrical,  arrani;(Nl  to  startle  and  to 
please,  a  museum  rather  than  an  exhibition,  the  French  com- 
mrtment  wins  the  first  spnntanoous  ■ufTrag'^s  of  every  visitor. 
riie  long  iron  screen — rich  with  hangings,  and  backed  by  the  ^^ 
fomiture  of  Founlinois  and  Grohe,  the  two  strangest  men  in '^| 
that  industry,  which  is  peculiarly  strong  in  France — seriously  ^^ 
w  it  obstructs  the  general  effect,  yet  forms  a  stately  propylasum  to 

the 


I 


T/ie  IfUernationai  Exhibit iotL 


SOT 


the  tfvftsures  within.  Tlie  spare  Is  tiU  barrlcnded,  but  Ui« 
chambert  which  the  barricade  forms  on  the  nave  side  assume  the 
guise  of  luxurious  apartments.  Inside,  the  area  is  not  as  in 
other  coiintru's  distributed  into  courts,  but  streets  of  stalls,  all  of 
tlirm  artifttimllr  nud  unifonntv  desig-iied,  lea<l  to  n  centre  com- 
pttsn]  oi  tlie  ricli  fIectrti-}^iU  ami  i']ef:tn»-platt?il  plateau  wbich 
ChiistoHe  has  executed  lor  tlie  city  of  Paris.  J'he  trensun's 
around  arc  innumentble.  Tlic  jewels  with  their  settinffs  arc  of 
cuuntlf'-'u  price,  while  the  ;«irure«  of  artificial  stone»  would  even 
ilcwivu  the  warv"  round  tlie  necks  of  tlic  ttenn-mtnule.  Tin?  state 
manufactory  of  Sevres  yields  jwirrclaiu  which  mipbt  almost 
fttonc  in  bulk  for  inferiority  of  execution  compared  witb  Euplaud 
or  luily.  The  1<n»us  of  Beauvais  and  of  the  Gobelins  bavr  not 
been  idle,  and  the  full-sixed  copy  from  the  latter  place  of  Titian's 
A<i!iuinption  requires  to  be  handled  before  the  slran|i^er  can 
believe  that  he  does  not  gaze  on  the  veritable  masterpiece  of 
Venetian  colour.  In  bronzes,  Paris  was  always  pre-eminent,  and 
Barbnlieune  in  rivalry  with  Paillanl  stands  foremost  in  them  ; 
while  be  is  great  in  every  other  school  of  metal-work,  mcdia'val, 
renaissance.  Oriental,  cast,  chased,  or  relieveil  with  enamel.  In 
bis  hamU  the  revival  even  of  Limoges  art  has  been  attempted 
with  very  suflicicnt  success.  In  France  paper-hanging  have 
sometimes  assume«l  the  ambitious  character  of  huge  pictures, 
generally  landscajjes,  designed  by  artists  of  name,  printed  off 
on  single  slieets.  When  our  won<)er  at  tlie  proceKs  has  subsided, 
we  are  left  fare  to  f;irr  with  wa^hy  piintings,  Hcttt-T  is  it  to 
havt-  real  pajK-r,  and  tlieu  if  you  [dease  to  hang  the  utoxa  with 
prints  or  photographs.  Bookbinding  is  very  gay,  as  fits  the 
eflitions  ilc  luxe  which  are  prodigally  displayed,  Kcclesiastical 
metal-work  of  mcdtieval  design  is  represenleil  by  several  pxhi- 
Iiilors,  whose  productions  arc  all  of  tlipm  costly  and  elatM>r»tc  in 
llietr  design,  bi'Tsides  being  urtistic  when  due  to  M.  Viollet  Lc 
Due,  and  highly  enamelled  ait  l-'renchmen  can  enamel  ;  although, 
as  a  nile,  tlelicicnt  in  fineness  of  chiselling,  and  overloHdcd  with 
gilding.  The  huge  liamiiiered  figures  in  copper  and  in  zinc  for 
the  n'oches  of  the  Saiute  Chapelle  and  of  Notre  Dame  are  bold, 
and  telling  works,  ina<le  to  be  viewed  at  n  distance,  while 
Christnilc's  lifosized  female  nudity,  produced  in  dully  shinini 
elcrtroplate.  stands  lis  a  beacon  to  avoid.  The  newly  di8<'overed'' 
'onyx'  marble  from  Algeria,  a  species  of  alaliaster  of  a  light 
guhlen  tint,  semitmnsparent  and  easy  to  be  worked,  has  its 
capacitie^s  displaved  in  various  forms,  partly  architectural  and 
partly  sculptured,  notably  as  the  dress  of  images,  with  hands, 
and  arms,  and  feet  of  bronze— 

*  Lampadtui  ignifvrms  manibus  rctincutaa  dostriii.' 


208  The  International  Exhibition. 

If  the  supply  prove  equnl  to  the  demand,  this  substance  is  a 
gain  to  art,  from  the  richness  oi  its  tone,  and  the  ease  with  which 
it  may  be  worked. 

After  we  have  indulged  to  the  futl  otir  just  admiration  at  the 
very  remarkable  display  which  France  has  made,  the  mii^iving 
question  rises  to  our  mind,  Is  all  this  complcieness  spontaneous, 
is  there  no  sign  of  the  mot  tTordrc  alxnit  it?  Is  it  an  art  more- 
meiil  which  will  ^row  unnided,  sprrnd  by  its  own  consciouitness 
of  strength,  and  purify  itself  by  its  own  simpHrity?  or  will  it 
ttami  still  and  expect  autliority  to  sustain  it  at  its  actual 
excellence?  May  it  not  be  that  the  French  in  their  present 
pursuit  of  serious  art  act  somewhat  like  tlieir  wives  in  their 
cultivation  of  the  art  of  drpM?  Frenchwomen  boast  of  being 
the  \ws\  ilresscd  women  In  the  world,  but  tlieir  ejieellencc  mnsiits 
in  tlie  way  in  wliich  they  put  on  the  rlothes  which  are  dictaletl 
to  them  by  the  tyrant  modistg*.  Sometimes  taste  in  dress  takes 
a  healthy  hue,  and  then  '  well-dressed '  persons  appear  in 
becoming  iihitlics.  But  fashion  changes,  the  gTuceful  lull  skirt 
is  inflated  and  sliflened  by  the  hiwjK  and  the  hoop  has  the 
additional  abouiinatiuu  of  a  short  waist  superadded,  till  the  ladies 
walk  about  lo«>king  more  like  bells  than  belles,  the  most  neatly 
rnouldcd  head  and  the  scraggiest  skull  arc  equally  weighted  vritK 
the  menacing  wreath,  or  topped  by  one  of  those  peftked  boanats 
which  have  supplanted  the  modest  bead-gear  of  five  or  six  yean 
ago,  anil  the  '  best  dressefl  woman  in  the  world  '  is  the  one  who 
lias  most  slavishly  conformnl  to  these  successive  di^figurcmeiits. 
We  fear  something  of  the  same  kind  is  going  on  with  France 
in  its  cultivation  of  graver  pursuits.  That  country,  like  all  other 
highly  civiliiced  and  intellectual  lands,  has  its  knot  of  independent 
thinkers  atal  s(-lf-reliant  act(»rs,  but  for  the  most  part  the  artist 
sails  with  the  wind,  and  exerts  his  p>wcrs  rather  to  invest  the 
fashion  with  accessories  of  grace  and  cosllinegs,  than  to  combat 
and  counteract  its  vi«ous  tendencies.  The  people  who  invente<l 
the  saying,  '  Kidicule  tiie,'  and  tvho  make  it  the  guide  of  their 
public  life,  are  a  shrewd  race,  but  by  tlie  same  token  they  are 
timid  of  novelty,  and  rather  prefer  to  tread  the  safe  |>ath  of 
polished  conventionalism  tlian  to  aim  at  and  perhaps  to  miss  a 
piquant  originality,  or  if  they  do  brcuk  out  they  strive  ti>  choke 
the  ridicule  bv  the  audueitv  of  their  aljeiTations. 

If  we  were  callnl  upon  to  name  some  one  object  in  the  French 
court  which  should  be,  we  do  not  say  the  best  thing  there,  but 
one  which  was  typical  of  its  entire  spirit,  we  should,  even  after 
visiting  the  huge  and  sumptuous  iron  fountain  in  tlie  Horticul- 
tural Garden,  select  that  very  work  of  art  ordered  by  high  autbcv 
rities,  designed  by  the  lacky  recipients  of  iouuinerable  guvera- 

xnental 


I 
I 


d 


Tht  luternijtivual  ExhUiUwn. 


309 


tncntJil    prizes,   nntl    executed    by  the   court  tradesman,   which 
I'ranic  liei-self  has  promoted  to  tlif  cciitnd  place  of  houaur,  the 
plateau  fur  the  Hotel  de  VilU'.     fanite  tii>  (Kmht  it  piMssesscs,  but 
It   is  the  grace  of  the  academy  ;  it  is  dignified,  Ijut  its  dignity 
warilji  sclt'-furf^etfuhieiis ;  its  material  is  rich,  but  the  ticlmess  is 
mostly  on  ihe  surfaire ;  its  technical  eiecution  is  pei-fet:t.  but  in 
the  cxeeutioii  spirit  has  evaporated.     Considered  as  an  alle^rv^ 
it  is  one  of  ten  thousitnd ;  it  has  about  it  no  moral  si^niricanee, 
hardly  even   mythology,  but  only  some  trite  effigies  of  obvious 
material   advantages.     As  the  expression  of  a  fact  it  is  merely 
the  Jttatcinent  of  intense  Bell'-&atisfactionma(le  in  the  family  circle 
of  one's  own  admirers.     The  municipality  of  I^aris,  /.  c.  oflicial. 
Paris  itself,  can  fiiul  no  mon>  graceful   compliment  with  wliirh' 
lu  greet  iU  guesU*,  loreign  or  domestic,  at  its  own  Imiiquets.  tlwn 
a  triumphal  representation  of  that  very  Paris  of  wliirh  it  is  itself  " 
the  exponent,  attend^t  by  all  tliose  elements  of  material  prospirrity, 
which  a  highbred  host  avoids  vaunting  to  his  company.     WIlcu 
il  i«  added  that  this  official  Paris  is  not  the  choice  of  Paris 
jl»elf,  but  tlie   emanation  «if  the    hijrher  centralization,  that  tliis 
ccntrali/jitlon  lives  in  and  lives  by  Paris,  wliMe  denviiig  to  Paris 
tluise  frt-r  <:or|K>rate  rijjhts  which  are  the  Hie  of  gniit  citicrs,  and 
when  wc  rc(lt*ct  tliat  dns  glorified  Paris,  glorificnl  not  for  itji  own 
saice  but  for  the  sake  of  the  j>owcr  which  sways  it,  is  by  that  rery 
power  sent  to  crown  the  French  imperial  display  in  an  Inier- 
nationnl    Kxhibition,  we  shall    not    have  far   tn   seek  when-  Oic 
i-aiiker  must  be  liHiked  for,  if  in  (Mjniing  years  Frrncli  art  should 
ni*t  fulfil  its  glilU^ring  promise.   Its  sun  may  still  be  in  tJie  eastern 
heavens,  but  it  may  he  at  its  xenitli,  lending  to  the  nnpurplcd 
but  chilly  sundown  of  a  Western  Lower  Kmpire. 

Xo  such  especial  risk  attends  the  industrial  art  of  England. 
It  may  thrive  or  it  may  waste  away,  but  it  will  never  Ik?  stifled 
under  the  dead  weight  of  an  artifirinl  mngntficence.  Of  etiurse 
the  Knglisb  ilisplnv  is  larger  nod  more  miseellaneous  than  that 
of  France,  for  it  had  not  to  pass  tltrough  the  alembic  of  a  pi'eli- 
JDtnaTk-  investigation,  and  thus  our  worst  tlnngs  find  uotliing 
quite  so  bad  to  be  set  against  them  there,  yet  we  are  thankful 
to  say  wr  have  nothing  to  n'proarli  ourselves  with  which  is  so 
inapprojiriale  as  tlte  horn  furniture  "f  Germany.  Our  guud  and 
our  Ijad  things  etmullv  bear  mark!>  of  free  eompetiliuit.  When 
We  gjvze  upon  the  French  display  wv  seem  to  be  assisting  at 
the  review  of  a  picked  regiment  of  well-drilletl  guardsmen.  Wc 
I  go  int<)  England,  and  we  arc  at  Ihighton  wben  the  volunteers 
tnm  out,  or  on  Kpsoin  I)4)wns  u[kui  the  Derby  day.  Tliere  are 
favourites  heavily  liaekeil,  and  outsiders  of  whom  nobody  is 
thinking ;  but   it   may  bu  that  an  outsider  will  win.     Tliere  is 


Vol.  112.-^^0.  'i2S. 


rul^TVV^ 


rulgarity  enough  in  the  KngUah  department  to  send  us  home 
sorrowing,  and  there  is  prepress  enough  to  cheer  us  in  our  most 
desponding  moinentii.  The  artist  has  elenrl^'  hnd  to  do  nith  tho 
produciT  diuinf];  the  last  elu\rii  yrars.  His  help  has  mit  alwa^'s 
Ihwu  ac  know  led  ped  as  it  deservwl — far,  indeei],  Kjo  little  so. 
His  inituencv  has  often  been  ibwarted,  and  his  sug^c^tioDs 
altered,  but  still  be  has  been  employed  as  he  never  used  to  be. 
Ol'lcn,  moreover,  wc  see  indications  of  the  cmplovmcnt  of  nrehi- 
tccts  to  furnish  thi*  designs.  This  fact  indicates  n  larf^o  and 
hcsllliy  rcrulutiiiii,  if  we  sliouhl  ni>t  rather  say  rcstonitiou,  til 
Art  studies  which  is  at  work  more  or  leas  in  all  countries  of 
lCuro[K>.  A  designer  who  was  merely  a  designer  had  seldom 
enough  cither  of  general  or  terhnical  education,  or  fif  construc- 
tive exjK'rienee,  to  inaki!  him  ii  vrhnllv  safe  guide  to  the  mnna- 
iaeturpr.  An  artist  of  inor»?  versiitile  and  extensive  training 
was  needed,  and  was  found  in  the  arehitect.  Architecture  is 
still  nluiut  what  it  was,  except  in  its  polyrhromatie  tendencies; 
but  the  architect  must  hcncefurward  be  a  man  capable  of 
dealing  with  the  form,  the  colour,  and  the  texture  of  many 
materials  nnd  nut  alone  with  slonc  and  brick.  Tor  this  de\'e- 
lopment  much  crtrdit  is  duo  to  the  schofds  of  design  which 
are  at  work  in  various  places,  but  muL-h  also  to  the  impulsioti 
gi^'en  by  fK.Tsuns  who  have  taught  without  a  pencil  in  their 
hands,  and  whose  lessiMis  may  l>c  summml  up  in  the  one  axiom 
to  seek  utility  of  form  and  reality  of  material  first,  and  then  to 
ornament  in  accordance  with  that  t'omi  and  that  material.  In  the 
present  Exhibition  the  furniture,  whether  <if  the  costly  or  the  cheap 
description,  [Mi|)cr-hangings  and  cnr|>ets,  testify  respectively  lo  this 
Upward  tendency.  Glass-painting  alom*  js  standing  still,  so  far 
u  we  can  judge  by  the  Exhibition.  In  furniture,  spirited 
carvings,  natural  forms,  and  llowing  tines  are  substituted  for  the 
tortured  outlines  of  old  upholstering  chefs-d'trurrc ;  variet}'  of 
wo<hU,  chosen  for  thetr  colour  and  their  grain,  ami  often  artisti' 
cally  contracted  In  delicately  inlaid  pnttenis,  arc  coming  into 
vogue  in  place  of  tawdry  splatchea  of  gilding  or  tlie  dull 
uniformity  of  shiny  mahogany.  Where  cheapness  is  retiuired, 
our  tradesmen  are  beginning  to  open  their  eyes  to  the  beauty 
of  simple  varnished  deal,  showing  its  natural  colour.  Impos- 
sible networks  of  rejXNited  temples  or  ruins  are  no  1ong«nr 
*steemod  the  most  appropriate  dccomlion  for  (rovcring  our 
walls,  while  those  poper>pr inters  who  work  by  machinery  vie 
in  tlie  purity  of  their  patterns  with  their  dearer  brethren  who 
still  employ  the  block  process.  It  is  no  longer  esteemed  the  tie 
jjjiis  uitra  of  taste  to  spread  our  floors  ^nth  gigantic  bunches 
of  lilacs,  roses,  niid   peonies,  shaded   up  in  high  reUeX     Here 

and 


A 


Tlie  Tntertiatimai  Erhibittm.  211 

and  there  we  stil!  »eo  nppallin^  specimens,  such  as  a  certain 
carpet  symbolical  of  the  French  treaty  ;  but  as  a  wholf  the 
looms  are  being  daily  more  and  more  set  to  ]}attcms  combining 
gc<Jinemn»l  forms  with  Mcll-contraslctl  colours.  In  the  porccluLn 
tif  almost  every  European  school — Faience,  majolica,  Palissy, 
and  neo-classical,  not  to  talk  of  the  rcviral  of  imligeiMius 
types — England,  represented  by  its  various  Staffordshire  and 
Worcestershire  'firms,  stands  supreme;  and  foremost  among:  the 
exhibitors  are  Messrs.  Minton,  though  well  followed  up  by  the 
Copelands,  tlie  Wwlgcwootls,  nml  tlie  Dukes.  As  a  cimlrast  Jw- 
tween  life  and  death  we  have  unlv  to  turn  from  these  displays  to 
the  cold  Dresden  exhibition.  In  tiles  for  mural  derorntiun  as 
contrast  with  porcelain,  Messrs.  Maw  have  made  valuable  pro- 
ffTcss,  and  their  large  mosaic,  designed  by  Mr.  Digby  Wyatt, , 
MI  bold  ceramic  tesscrte,  is  a  production  not  to  be  orcrlookcd. 
The  ornamental  glass-works  of  England  arc  not  in  pn>portion  of 
so  remnrkablc  a  quiilitv  as  the  porcelain ;  but  still  they  show  con- 
siderable aptitude  in  the  imitations  of  various  foreign  schools; 
and  one  taxza  of  glass,  delicately  cugraved  nml  shown  by  a  St. 
James's  Street  firm,  has  not  unmeritnlly  won  considerable 
praise.  The  performances  in  brass-work  and  in  wrcjoghl  or 
cast  iron  are  of  a  remarkable  size  and  vciy  higb  merit.  The 
'praise  of  Skidmorc's  screen  from  Coventry  is  in  every  visitor's 
month.  Messrs.  Hardnian's  delicate  wrought-iron  grill  of  late 
Gothic  potteru,  from  Birmingham,  must  not  be  overlooked  ;  \vhilc 
another  prominent  work,  Barnard's  Norwich  Gates,  partly  of 
cast  and  partly  of  wrought  iron,  composed  of  spirited  imitations 
«f  natural  foliage  artistically  grouped,  dcsencs  especial  commen- 
dation. The  cast  and  Ijronzcd  gates  from  Colebrook  Dale  are  as 
ronspicuously  had.  Mediieval  art  in  a  surprising  variety  of  forms 
is  not  on1v  displayed  by  the  artists  we  have  named  and  by  other 
workers  in  brass,  such  as  IVtr.  Hart,  but  also  in  a  court  aiTailged 
by  a  society  with  the  long  name  of  Ecclcsto logical,  out  of 
which  we  should  name  some  very  meritorious  embroidery  and 
woollen-work  of  rich  colours  well  contrasted,  by  Messrs.  Jones 
and  Willis  of  Birmingham,  under  Mr.  Street's  inspirations. and  a 
specimen  of  the  pavement  of  Lichfield  Cathedral,  by  Messrs. 
Clayton  and  Bell,  reviving  the  old  art  of  incising  atones,  for 
designs  to  be  execntctl  in  various  coloured  cements — a  process 
as  applicable  to  walls  as  to  floors.  Tbc  goldsmiths  sml  the 
jewellers  astonish  whh  the  monetary  value  of  their  cases.  The 
price  of  these  gems  is  not,  of  course,  a  question  of  art,  and  the 
settings  are  frequently  nothing  more  than  ingenious  <levice8  to 
show  off  the  stones.  But  tliere  is  a  prodigal  display  of  glyptic 
work  in  the  precious  metals  and  their  imitations.     The  nearly 

p  2  lvj\^wV^eu 


■ 


forgotten  iproc'fss  of  rcpouss^  i*  nuw  in  vigorous  operation  ;  ami 
tlKmgli  ibi  prmlucta  may  still  hti  somewhat  stiff,  yet  perfection 
will  vumti  by  pmertice.  'Hie  French  invention  of  nxydizing 
silver  bii£  hvea  accliinatlsoil  here  since  1851 ;  aiul  in  the  pro- 
fusion of  forms  which  racing  and  other  '  cups,'  memorial 
shieUts,  and  so  on,  assume,  ideas  arc  here  iind  there  struck  out 
wliich  lire  ca|mbk'  of  much  further  expansion.  As  a  whole  this 
display,  when  its  abmidauce  ts  considered,  may  be  esteemed  a  ^^ 
hopeful  indication  of  the  homage  which  wealtli  now  pftys  to  art.  ^M 
The  desjgneis'  nnmes  are  in  v;iriou»  instances  given,  and  some  of 
the  foremost  are  foreigners.  Honour  where  honour  is  due  !  Still 
we  should  urge  or  our  countrymen  to  seek  this  path  of  excel- 
lence. There  is  still  room  for  developmeiit.  Some  maniifac* 
tiivers,  for  example,  seek  their  effects  by  the  contrast  of  oxyclised 
and  bright  silver,  others  by  parcel  gilding,  none  have  sufficiently 
tried  the  further  contrast  of  all  the  three  effects.  Wo  do  not 
pretend  to  select  any  favourite  work  out  of  so  prolific  a  com- 
petition. Hut  we  must  say  that  if  our  choice  were  limited  to 
iMic  priMbiction  we  .should  not  take  that  lopa7  cup,  by  a  fnreigTi 
hand,  set  with  inferior  imitations  of  or nnni'- renter  enamelling, 
whose  prominent  position  in  tiie  nave  has  gainetl  it  so  much 
iittention  ;  while  wc  sympathise  with  Abdul  Aziz's  economical  re- 
jection of  his  prcdcccssor'sjcwellcd  looking-glass  and  stereoscope. 
Still  less  should  we  Ije  attracted  by  the  coarse  ivory  statuette 
i»f  a  slave  girl  in  the  same  *  trophv,'  which  is,  we  believe,  an 
almost  5olit.-ir\'  in.st'incc  in  the  I'.nglish  department  (though  not 
by  an  ICngltslimaii)  of  the  artistic  manipulatmn  i)f  n  material 
once  dear  to  canxrs.  In  ta|X!Sirv  England  does  not  compete, 
and  in  bronzes  hanlly  at  all,  but  Derbyshire  very  fairly  imitates 
that  pietm  dura  uf  Florence,  while  in  a  pnvement  by  NIr.  Slater 
for  Chlchestrr  Catliedral  we  are  glad  to  note  the  revival  of 
marble  mosaics  of  a  con&tnictural  cliaracter. 

There  is  «me  artistic  exhibition  in  which  Britain  stiinds  virtually 
alone,  that  of  architectural  drawings  of  modem  buildings.  In 
the  invitations  issued  early  In  the  undertaking  these  were  coldly 
specified  among  tlie  objects  which  were  aihnissible.  Foreign 
countries  may  have  bwu  n!j»elled  by  the  .singular  absemx!  iif  zpnJ 
which  the  CV>mmisaioner8  displayed  in  their  re4piest  for  a  class 
of  contributions  of  which  it  is  fair  to  suppose  they  hardl\  knew 
the  value.  Certaiidy  very  few  have  arrived  from  foreign  lands. 
The  French  catalogue  has,  indeed,  some  names  of  architectural 
cininetice,  but  these  lU'e  affixed  to  restorations  of  ancient  build- 
ings. A  few  original  designs  Imve  come  from  Prussia  anil  Aus- 
tria, and  one  or  two  from  Mollaml  ;  the  rest  of  Kumiic  is  a 
blank.     This   is  greatly  to  be    regretted,  for    an   hntiToaiional 

representation 


TVwf  International  Krhilntion. 


213 


representation  of  the  collective  architectural  ninetcentli  century 
would  liave  been  a  lesson  of  sing-ul^ir  int]>ortance,  not  merely  to 
Uie  architect,  but  to  the  student  of  historical  civilisation  and  the 
analyst  of  national  characteristics.  However,  the  architects  of 
Ko^laud,  not  dauittMl  by  the  scant  encour;i^euient  which  tlicv 
jeceived  from  oHicial  authorities,  rombinecl  to  agitate  and  to 
represent  until  they  succcedetl  in  wrinirini;  from  the  Commis- 
Honers  both  a  range  of  galleries  lor  architectural  dcsif^Tis^  and  an 
adjacent  court  for  |iortions  of  buildings  of  exhibitable  size  and 
possessing  distinctive  merit.  The  treatment  which,  except  for  the 
vi>luntary  labour5  of  these  gentlemen,  the  queen-art  would  have 
ceivcd,  would  have  been  a  fit  corollary  to  tlie  appreciation  of 
rrhitecturc  shown  in  the  construction  of  the  building  itw?lf. 
s  it  is,  we  may  look  with  solid  satisfaction  upon  the  numerous 
aimy  uf  drawings  ranged  in  the  two  main  galleries  like  rival 
armies — the  f  jotldc  on  one  side,  the  classical  and  the  renaissance 
on  the  other,  but  peacefully  commingled  in  the  external  galleries 
which  are  jwrtiallj  dcroicd  to  the  Scotchmen.  The  variety  ol 
treatment  witli  which  the  various  styles  are  handled,  the  con- 
srientiuus  study  (tf  details,  the  nXtention  shown  to  the  grouping, 
the  mger,  sometimes  exuberant,  oftener  healthy,  search  nfler 
firi^inality,  indicate  an  epoch  of  vast  material  and  intellectual 
kCtirity  in  tlie  pursuit  of  architecture.  In  tlils  large  collection, 
representing  an  outlay  which  we  should  fear  to  calculate,  then> 
is  a  moderate  percentage  ttf  unbuilt,  and  liardly  any  of  imaginary 
structures,  while  the  quality  i>f  the  warlis  is  imjiroved  bv  their 
being  displayed    in  juxtaposition.      Knglatid   may  in  pirtlcular 

Saint  witli  honesl  pride  to  the  cathedral-like  church  which 
Ir.  Scott  is  building  at  Hamburg,  won  in  an  international  com- 
jictttion,  and  to  that  other  cathedral  for  Lille  where  Mr.  Clutton 
and  Mr.  Rurges  came  off  vicU>riou8  over  Kurope,  followed  by 
Mr.  Street,  onlv  to  he  deframlril  of  their  wiirk.  All  the  exhi- 
bitors but  two  or  three  are  living,  anil  thi>se  who  are  dead,  liki* 
Sir  Charles  Barry,  have  ileceascd  since  1851.  Adjacent  to  the 
architecture,  though  under  diHerent  management,  a  gallery  has 
been  devoted  to  art-designs  by  persons  who  have  been  living 
during  the  century.  We  have  incidentally  mentioned  Scotch 
architecture.  With  this  exception,  neither  Seotland  nor  Ireland 
takes  up  any  distinctive  position  in  the  industrial  arts.  Very 
little  art,  as  mis;lit  be  sup]>o8Cfl,  comes  from  the  colonies.  But 
they  do  contribute  materLils,  lx)th  vegetable  and  mineral,  which 
may  be  ihv  Jhmes,  if  tlic  English  race  does  not  degenerate,  with 
them  and  at  liome,  of  future  art-esploits  of  refreshing  originality. 
Not  to  mentiun  the  marbles  of  Now  South  Wales  and  the  mala- 
chite 


214  7%p  Int^nwfiotuU  Exhihitimi. 

clu'te  of  South  Austrntin^  tlie  prodignl  array  of  woods  of  every 
ffrain,  t'vcrv  hue,  iind  every  hardness,  which  come  from  Austmlia, 
^utli  Afn'ra,  and  New  /raUnd,  from  thi?  We-st  !ni lies  and  from 
Ceylon,  and  in  n  lo«  liejsrreo  from  North  America,  Are  an  alarum 
to  the  carver  nnd  the  cabinet-maker  to  be  up  and  stirrlo^  with 
their  touU,  and  to  the  architect  and  tbo  draughtsman  to  ahaq>cn 
their  pencils.  Wc  arc  plad  tn  sec  that  these  colonics  have  to  a 
certain  extent  contributed  to  the  architectural  anp<al  by  the 
photographs  which  several  of  thRm  hnvr  sent  of  their  principal 
cities,  such  as  Sydney,  Melbourne,  (Jeelong^,  Auckland,  Montreal, 
Jl.itifaK.  &C-.  We  are  fi^atcful  for  this  frlimpse  into  their  inner 
life,  aiiri  we  shall  not  discuss  the  style  of  the  public  or  private 
buildinirs.  When  some  c*jlony  shall  have  ratsctl  a  ^"at  imii- 
genous  arcliitect,  he  neeil  not  \ye  oppressed  bv  the  iinnppronch- 
able  superiority  of  the  betjuests  which  an  earlier  age?  may  have 
led  for  niB  contemplation. 

We  have  referml  to  M.  Cliriatofle's  plateau  as  typiral  of 
French  art;  that  of  England  may  be  considered  to  have  attained 
its  most  charactcrialic  expression  in  Minton's  majolica  fountain, 
tlesi^efl  by  the  late  Mr.  Thomas,  anil  in  Skidniore's  Hereford 
srreen,  carried  out  umler  Mr.  Scott's  directions.  Both  these  works 
are  emphatically  monumental  in  their  aim,  and  neither  of  tliem  tltc 
fruit  of  official  enU^rprise.  Kach  is  the  largest  work  which  lias 
yet  been  produced  from  the  manufactory  which  the  late  Mr. 
Minton  in  the  one  case,  and  Mr,  Sktdmore  in  the  other,  deve- 
loped or  set  up,  with  the  express  Intention  of  allvin^  arts  to 
industry.  Karh  in  its  largeness  tmnsirends  any  previous  exploit 
in  the  &ame  materials  producetl  elstrwhere.  The  fountain  shows 
nu  how  large  and  architectural  a  scalo  tlic  fulle-st  coloration  may 
be  employed;  the  screen  exemplifies  the  manifold  capacities  of 
mclal-work  from  hainmere<l  iron  to  cnamciling.  Neither  of 
them  is  periect,  but  the  im|)erfecttons  which  may  attach  to  each 
— innKTfectirms  of  detail  as  thev  are — are  signs  of  n  genuine  art 
which  aims  at  hnnd  n-sults.  U  may  be;  objected  to  the  fountain 
that  the  employment  of  stone  for  certain  }Mjrtions  of  it  tends  to 
impugn  its  claim  to  bs  a  porcelain  fountain,  while  its  coloration 
is  not  above  criticism.  Again:  certain  parts  of  the  scrceo  may 
lie  considercil  as  rather  stona  turned  into  metnl  than  legitimate 
metallic  construction,  and  others  may  lie  held  too  slight  for 
BO  large  a  monument.  We  are  not  careful  either  to  establish 
or  n-fute  these  criticisms.  IJe  lliey  true  or  lje  thev  false,  enough 
remains  in  cither  case  to  eattblish  the  work  as  a  remarkable 
px.imple  of  the  energy  <>f  Knglishmcn  successfully  workitig  in 
the  mi<Ut  of  our  people  to  t:n«ite  tlinl  spirit  of  art  from  tlie  head 

which, 


7?b  hUernatmnai  Kxhibition. 


315 


which,  when  it  has  onco  taken  root,  is  so  macU  more  enter- 
prising', though  nut  alwayi  so  refined  in  details,  as  tho  mere 
uutintiivc  ut  of  the  heart. 

It  must  have  been  a  hjgiral  pn>eips!i  which  led  to  the  first  n>n- 

cvjitiun  uf  the  ruuntaiii ;    but  em  Uiat  process  was  c-om)iUHi>,  lis 

^lealiaaiion  invoked  all  the  higher  qualities  of  combination  and 

design,  the  thouglitf'ut  halnncins;  of  foim  and  colour,  and  the  love 

of  size,  which  is,  in  its  due  siibonlination,  one  element  of  suc- 

ccwful  art.     Even   the  selection  tA  the  g^roap  witli  which  it  is 

crowned  is  a  hcalthv  syniptom.     There  is  nothing  pcruliarly 

novel   in   St  George  and  the  Ura^ron,  but  that  the  good   ohi 

representative  story --in  its  nake<l  farts  tvpic-al  of  rollgiou,  in  its 

I  earlier  loca]   application  brcathincr  of  chivalry,  ami  in  its  later 

mse  the  symbol  of  the   Ivnglish  Tvspublica  in  its  brightest  (jhjrics 

— shotdd  be  the  one  selected  thJuj;  to  cap  the  sight  which  was 

meant  to  win  the  applause  of  the  myriads — -nnives  more  tlinn  one 

Tisitur   in   ten  thousand    has  any  idea  of.      Imperial  and  bureau- 

Icratic  P'rance,  setting   up  its  official  art-mtmument  in  the  midst 

of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  of   Paris,  has  nothing   bfMier  to  exhibit 

^ihan  the  cold  beauty  of  a  mcKlern  idcalise<l  goddess  of  an  oh! 

Christian  and  historica]  city.     England,  rcpri/scntcd  bv  the  eittrr- 

prise  of  a  private  potter,  ci-owns  the  achievement  by  exalting  on 

igh  the  red-cross  Knight,  St.  George  for  England,  i 

As  cluiriicleriatic  of   Kuglish   invention  an<I   si-lf- reliance,  tlic 

Armstrong  irophv  must  not  I>e  pas*o<l  over  in  silence.     We  here 

displav  this  important  engine  to  foe  and  friend,  in  all  its  sorts 

and  sizes,  its  parts  and  stages  of  manufacture ;  challenging  them 

I  to  imitate — to  surpass,  if  Uiey  can — a  weapon  which  (though  it 

1ms  iK>t  yet  reached  p>rfi-ction,  and  indeed  must  always  be  liable, 

like  other  weai>ons,  to  defects  of  construction)  jntiraises  to  give  to 

those  who  shall  make  it  best  an  tmuieiise  supeiinritv  in  war. 

The  incidents  of  the  I  lercford  screen  are  equally  ciiarnctcristic, 
irrespective  of  its  art.  This  work — cxrcutctl  in  a  prnvinrial 
cjtv,  by  a  man  who  has  so  cnmplctelv  made  his  fame  in  a  few 
years  Umt,  although  he  sent  some  things  to  the  Exhibition  of 
1851,  they  were  overlooked  by  every  jurj — illnstmtes  by  its 
raiton  d'Hrtt  another  of  the  features  of  the  national  chamcter 
which  cannot  fail  to  have  its  influence  in  moulding  tlie  artistic 
movement.  The  work  is  not  orderctl  by  any  private  person. 
This  would  in  manv  Continental  States  be  almost  tantamount  to 
its  having  been  ordered  by  some  Governmental  body.  Not  so 
in  England.  The  patron  in  this  ciise  is  nne  of  those  cnrporalions 
rxisting  in  and  for  the  Church  of  England,  spared  at  the  Rcfor- 
tnatiun,  afterwards  simk  into  sloth  and  selfishness,  consequently 
detpotlcU  and  crippled  in  the  days  of  Reform,  when  men  had 

faith 


316  The  Jntirmtional  Ejrhihition, 

faith  in  Cummis&ions,  now  rising  a^in  to  n  consciousness  of 
and  a  performance  of  their  own  work,  anil  able  to  dispose  □<>! 
only  of  their  «nn  remaining  funds  bnt  of  the  free  Rifts  of  con- 
fiding lavmcn — a  cathedral  chapter.  This  costly  work  of  inm 
and  brass  and  rich  enamel,  with  it*  lofty  arches,  its  delicate  mn- 
vohitiiins,  its  electrotype  statues,  and  its  crowning  cross,  is 
desliiieil,  when  the  ilays  of  its  exhibition  arc  over,  to  span  the 
choir  of  one  of  our  old  catliedrals,  restored,  like  so  ninny  others, 
wiUi  the  gc»od»vi]l  and  the  co-o]>eration  of  its  diocese,  lo  a  solid 
magnificence  more  chastened  than  its  primitive  condition, 

Thus,  like  Mintnn's  fountain,  Skidmore's  screen  is  a  debt 
which  the  present  is  paving;  to  the  past  jio  less  than  to  llie 
future.  Its  art  is  modem  in  its  extent,  but  in  its  principh^s  it  is 
old,  and  its  object  is  to  enhance  a  large  surviving  mimumcnt  of 
ancient  art.  Such  also  is  the  intention  of  manv  of  the  costly 
objects  of  Church  silvcr-Hork  hi  the  cases  of  Iiachelet,Trioul!ier, 
and  Poussielf^iie  Kus-inil ;  but  while  these  pnuhictionit,  rlojrgMl 
with  superfluous  fjilding-,  will  in  the  end  ticcupy  some  position 
where  they  must  lie  inspected  like  cabinet-pieces,  the  bolder 
Knglishman  commands  the  fabric  itself,  and  raises  metal-work 
to  the  level  of  architecture.  It  will  be  noticed  that  one  of  our 
two  types  of  English  art  woiih)  Im>  cnsiinlly  termeii  Italian,  and 
the  other  (iothic.  .\evrilheless  we  do  not  ndtnil  anv  real  con- 
trariety Iw-twi-en  the  principles  which  influenced  the  two  de&i^^ns. 
Hoth  are  natural  art,  tioth  of  tliein  art  which  studies  tlie  inat^ 
rial  to  be  used,  both  of  them  art  which  docs  not  despise  colour  at 
the  correlative  of  form  ;  and  so,  whether  we  call  them  Italian  or 
call  them  Gothic,  we  cannot  add  to  or  mar  their  merit. 

We  are  not  in  desjiair  at  the  fact  that  so  many  of  tho  ««- 
trihuthtns  from  alt  countries  manifest  absence  of  invention,  along 
with  great  reailiness  and  variety  in  adaptation ;  which  critics 
have  crjiisidered  to  be  the  sum  of  the  lesson  to  be  learned 
from  the  whole  cxliibition  uf  appHeil  art.  It  is  by  working 
at  first  from  tlie  models  Iwfore  them  tliat  the  rt-^cnemtuni  of 
art  c^tt  at  Ia!>l  attain  that  knowledge  of  tlie  principles  of  art 
which  will  justify  them  in  liiunchin^  out  in  a  bolder  course  at 
some  later  dav.  No  doubt  the  '  Fine-Arts-on-loan  Exhibition' 
will  breed  innumerable  mimics,  but  their  mimicries  will  be  the 
copy-books  in  which  they  are  Icamintf  to  write.  England,  how- 
ever, sfvniB  by  comiiariwni  Wttcr  pre[«»red  (o  take  an  independent 
line  th»n  the  more  p4!ifectionated  I'nincc,  and  we  will  tell  die  rea- 
son wliv.  In  Ku^land  Uu-  battle  of  styles  has  In-en  fought  in  a  pro- 
gressive and  not  a  retrospective  spirit.  The  men  whose  principle  lias 
been  to  remrmlw-r  tliat  we  are  ICnglishmen,  not  (JlroeKs,  Romans 
or  Italians  ;  Christians  not  pagans :  governed  by  Sovereign,  Lords, 


I 


The  Fnterjuitional  Exhibition, 


217 


nnd  Commong,  not  hy  Er<rlcsi.i  or  Spniitr,  Dukc  nr  Ptnlcsta, — while 
workiti);  out  ;il]  tlir  mntiv  forms  of  art  wlii<-li  tliiMr  c-i)iivt<iiciii5 
rtrinni-l  tlu-iti  lo  tiiiiullt*,  ami  whicli  tin-  w<irlil  calls  fiotliJc, — tlu 
not  tuinJIi-  tlii-ni  licmuse  they  are  Gothic  ami  nierJi.i>val,  but 
because  they  are  national  and  natural  to  the  a^e  niul  tlie  land  wq 
live  in,  and  may  be  su  muulde<l  as  to  become  still  more  natoral 
nnd  national  to  future  agt^  Tlie  ronseque-nee  is,  that  tlicy  liave 
mtule  tlieir  inJluciice  frit  even  iinion|r  thi>ir  jniirejised  opjHinrnts, 
anil  have  eroated  iin  eelectic  wIkhjI,  whieh,  while  it  is  itui  witli 
them,  cannot  he  saiil  to  be  against  ihem.  The  foreign  GutliieisI, 
in  Fmuce  at  all  events,  *fail  de  i'archeoioffic,'  or  else  modernizes 
ukI  Mario latrises.  The  German  art  movement,  we  b<*li('v<",  hag 
more  Kimililudr  in  innny  of  its  moral  nsp-cts  to  ours  than  that  of 
Fllince,  but  it  liasfaileil  tn  plate  itself  in  rei>rrscnt!ilJoiial  tlie  l^hi- 
bidoiL  The  I^u^lish  movement  is  aUo  inliinsitallv  and  unaifeet- 
c<llr  more  rolipous,  and  Its  rcli?ii>n  does  not  eouline  itself  to  the 
Kstabiis}ie<l  Church,  for  there  is  no  dissenting  IxHly  which  would 
now  think  of  building  its  ckapcl  in  any  style  but  tliat  uf  old 
Enslatid.  In  France  the  artists  and  the  archiiects  are  elassicnl, 
or  they  are  Gothic,  as  artists  or  arehiteets  merely.  Here  they  do 
not  allow  themselves  to  forget  that  thev  are  also  members  of  tlie 
community;  they  retain  their  own  political  and  religious  pre- 
dilections, and  tliev  are  himest  enough  to  express  them,  ami 
to  take  part  in  public  matters  on  one  side  or  the  other,  without 
respect  to  llu-ir  prolesslonnl  advantage. 

Nich  are  umon^  lUe  jH-euUnrities  of  national  character  wlueli 
arcoimt  for  certain  phenomena  in  the  Kxhibition.  The  real 
industrial  art  of  England,  appertaining  as  it  does  to  a  people 
which  is  seriously  minfled,antt  which  has  a  [Tcculinr  devotion  for 
bump,  is  |>artly  w>cial  and  partly  rclijfious.  It  travels  from  house 
to  church,  and  from  church  to  house,  and  takes  its  colour  from 
each.  It  is  a  sturdy  plant,  reared  by  many  different  influences, 
like  the  |)c<jplp  in  which  it  has  taken  root, — 

'  Qucai  ranlcent  aurro,  nutrit  boI,  odncat  imber.* 

It  has  been  formt^d  hy  our  old  institutions,  and  by  onr  recent  pro- 
(H^ss ;  it  ha.s  been  moulde^l  bv  the  Parliament  and  the  Courts  nf 
Law,  Plantagenet  traditions  both  of  them,  yet  l>otli  uf  them  ailaptnl 
to  modem  uses;  by  the  media'val  Churrh,  and  bv  tht-  Kefornia- 
lion;  by  the  monarchy  and  the  (iveat  ("hnrtcr;  by  Tiulnr  pride 
nnd  Puritan  ascendency ;  by  the  Restoration  of  King;  and  Hishop  ; 
by  the  Revolution,  with  its  Tolerathm  Act,  and  bv  the  silrnt 
ante-n-rolution  of  the  eighteenth  century;  hv  thr  Union  with 
Scotland  anil  with  Ireland  ;  liy  tlie  [»reat  Kurojicjin  war,  and  llie 
mighty  memories  of  Pitt  and  VVVllingtim  ;  by  tlu;  Reform  Bill  and 
Free  Trade,  and  by  the  female  reign  which  was  vouchsafed  wlK'n 

Royalty 


218 


37W  Itdemalioiuil  Exhibition, 


Royalty  seemed  aa  it«  trial.  Tbese,  anil  a  thousand  otb 
memories  of  similar  import,  all  combine  to  make  the  English 
character  of  18t>2,  so  old  and  yet  so  young',  which  is  strugKlinir 
for  itt  artistic  rxprrssinn.  That  t*x]>r('ssion  cutinot  he  written  in 
the  nlieii  tiin|^e  of  dihtitnl  laiuU  and  hygonc  civilization.  It 
iiatunJly  seeks  its  iilphabet  in  the  title-deeds  of  England, — 
royal,  free.  Christian.  It  does  not  'make  archaeology)'  hut  it 
inquires  of  the  past  to  inform  the  iiiturc.  It  is  progressive  art ; 
and  as  true  progress  must  ever  be  putting  itself  to  school,  it  seeks 
to  Irnrn  «f  rver>'  stvlc  which  ever  lovnl  llie  beautiful,  in  ord»n"  to 
adopt  and  tiy  ns^tiinilate,  he^-dlt-ss  of  the  |>iirrot  rej)rouch  of  eclcc- 
ticisin,  jmividcil  only  tliat  eclecticism  be  one  of  fusion  and  of 
devclupraent,  ond  not  merely  of  juxtaposition.  We  so  strongly 
insist  on  this  point,  from  our  honest  desire  to  repudiate  the  ctiarge 
of  narrowness.  We  do  nut  conceal  our  sympathicij  witli  that  school 
of  art,  whii'li,  represented  as  it  was  in  tin*  last  Exhibition  almost 
exclusively  by  Pugin's  court,  is,  in  1802,  wi  laiyly  upheld  by 
Skidmove,  by  the  Eccle*ioIogical  Suciety's  court,  by  Hanlumn 
and  Hart,  in  part  by  Minton,  by  the  Architectural  Court  in  the 
east  transept,  and  by  more  than  half  the  Architectural  Gallery. 
But  we  do  Hi  in  no  bigoted  spirit.  Whatever  beauty  any  other 
style  possesses,  that  beauty  we  cmlmicc ;  and  \vc  lio|>r,  or  dream 
as  it  may  he,  that  in  some  later  day  the  hidden  link  that  jiiins  it 
to  the  seemingly  rival  developments  may  be  discovereil.  .Art 
we  believe  is  uii(%  imly  man  has  not  yet  mastered  the  secret  of  its 
unity.  We  are  not  blind  to  the  faults  into  which  those  whom  wo 
see  working  in  the  same  groove  as  ourselves  arc  sometimes  ImW. 
Wc  perceive  that  their  productions  are  uccasiomUty  angular  or 
um-nuth,  that  thoy  sumetiiiies  mistake  hciiviness  for  dignitv,  and 
spend  much  time  and  run  into  great  exiwnses  to  seem  cheap  and 
Eimulntc  simplicity.  But  wc  know  full  urcll  that  the  faults  im 
the  other  side  are  quite  as  grave.  Wc  may  esteem  kome  of  them 
move  grave,  but  all  we  claim  is  a  fair  start,  and  we  rest  con- 
tent tu  abide  the  issue,  Wc  see  tliat  a  similar  battle  is  being 
fought  in  foreij^n  lands,  and  we  strive  to  profit  by  its  tcacliuigs. 
The  faults  of  diuse  who  occupy  abroad  a  position  similar  lo  our* 
are  also  patent;  sometimes  a  worship  uf  luchaeulogical  precedent 
which  refuses  to  notice  that  the  world  rolls  on,  sometimes  a 
simulated  deference  to  religious  scnsuousnr^is.  There  arc  also  wtnao 
signs  visible,  we  fear,  among  them  uf  a  phenomenon  which,  we 
trust,  is  al>sent  from  us,  or  rather  one  of  which  the  reverse  prevails 
in  England — a  widening  breach  between  art  general  and  art  reli- 
gious, fostered  by  the  social  conditions  and  the  tumid  pretensions 
of  that  community  which  is  tlie  visible  emIxKlinient  of  Cliristianlty 
over  the  widest  portion  of  Western  Europe,     In  the  mean  whllA 

scicace 


I 


Tfip  Intematianal  Exhihitim,  219 

science  is  c\-crv  tlav  jiouriag  its  hard-won  Irc-isurcs  into  the  lap 
of  art:  new  processes,  new  minerals,  new  tl^es,  new  cisement^  of 
manual  operation;  tlic  galMinic  bath  turning  the  artist's  own  clay 
into  the  everlasting  statue ;  tlie  sun  slaving  in  the  glass-house  to 
|Mi!nt  mail's  pir'turt.'s,  the  electric  spark  rumiing  along  tlie  wires  to 
tell  ntati'!*  int'ssii^'es ;  the  Vft|Mur  uf  water  doing  tUat  which  tui 
horses  and  no  linnds,  no  winds  and  no  tides,  could  ever  accomplish. 
TliMe  aj^encics  are  Providence 's  instruments  to  work  out  results 
mightier  tlian  any  Exhibition  can  make  or  mar.  Vet  ExKi- 
bitions  Lave  their  value,  as  seats  by  the  roudsiidc,  where  the 
wayfarers  may  rest  and  compare  their  adventures.  Much  varied 
lore  inny  (here  be  gatlieretl  by  those  who  will  have  the  pntioncc 
to  sit  at  the  feet  of  experience  and  iudustrv,  and  many  false 
impressions  will  he  di^pellod  by  tlie  attrition  of  equal  minds. 
Officials  may  have  done  thrir  little  best  to  sjjoil  the  good  ri-sult, 
hut,  after  every  abatement  has  been  made,  great  gratification  to 
multitudes,  tangible  instruction  to  a  smaller  but  numerous  class, 
will  be  the  gross  result  of  the  Exhibition  of  1862,  as  it  was  of 
that  in  1851.  Whether  there  will  ever  be  another  in  England, 
or  whether  lliere  will  not,  these  two  will  have  left  tlieir  mark  on 
histor\'.  'Hie  names  of  tbc  Commissioners  and  of  the  engineer 
will  be  forgotten,  while  the  date  of  botli  will  l>e  remeinlKTe<l  as 
occurring  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  as  having  be^n 
among  the  many  wiiic  conceptions  for  the  public  gotxl  of  that 
Prince  who  luid  so  eminently  the  capficity  of  swaying  events  by 
his  consciousness  of  quiet  power. 


I 


Art.  VII. — 1,  liittcaii:  the  Past,  Premtlj  and  Future  of  Us 
hlaml-KinijSom ;  an  Ilistorical  Acrount  of  the  Sandicictt  Ulanda. 
By  Maitley  Hopkins,  Hawaiian  Cunsul-Genera)  ;  with  a  I*n> 
[ace  by  the  Uitiliop  of  Oxford.     London,  I8G2. 

3.  Hintortf  of  the  liawaiiaii  or  SandicUJi  Islands,  By  James 
Jackson  Jnrvis.     Boston,  1847. 

3.  The  Ulaiulirurhl  of  the  Pacifc.  By  the  Hev.  R  T.  Checver. 
Olasgow. 

4.  Lifp  in  tfip  Sandmch  Islands.  By  the  Rev.  H.  T.  Chcevw*. 
London,  1851. 

EIGHT  ycnrs  ngo  wc  called  tlie  attention  of  our  reatlen  to 
the  missions  of  Polynesia,  and  endeavoured  then  to  set 
before  tliem  a  living  picture  butli  of  tlie  jiast  and  present  state  of 
those  strangely  njetures^jue  islands  which  gem  the  bosom  of  the 
great  Pacific  Ocean.  We  might  perltajK  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances have  waited  longer  before  we  reverted  to  the  subject 

A  decade 


4 


220 


The  Hawaiian  Islands. 


A  ilRCiuht  IB  but  a  linef  periml  in  tlie  histiiry  of  missionary 
exertion,  or  in  ttie  progn^ss  nf  thn  Cliuriih  an ywhert*.  Hut  the  last 
ten  ytaxt  have  in  more  than  one  respect  brouf^ht  forth  for  those 
distant  pvjups  of  islfuids  some  such  peculiar  events  that  we 
gl»(Lly  devote  a  fetv  of  our  own  pngca  aixl  cnll  a  portion  of  "ur 
reaih'ra'  attention  to  their  narratidn.  'V\\p.  wide  extent  over  which 
that  jM^ruIiar  rare  which  lias  bern  <!Hllr4l  the  MaIayi>-Po!vni'sian 
is  spread,  fonns  nnc  siiif^ular  fact  coiieeniini;  them.  Instead  of 
their  insular  position,  scattercfl  as  those  islands  arc  through  a 
vast  expanse  of  waters,  partinjj  ailjncent  peoples  into  distinctly- 
niarkeii  trjlics,  a  most  unusual  Kimtlaritv  mav  be  traced  tlinuigh 
die  whole  mass.  *  nisjoiiK^I  and  wid^ily  sejwiratL-d,'  savs 
I'l'ichiird,  *  these  insular  tracts  aif  found  to  contain  races  of 
inhabitants  motv  nearly  connected  with  each  other,  and  at  the 
Kline  time  much  more  widely  scattered,  than  any  of  the  families 
of  men  who  orcnpr  l]i<3  continuous  lands  of  Asia  nnd  Afrim,'* 
C?l«ise  (ibserA'atioii  has  apparcTitlv  established  the  fact  that  three 
si'imralc*  trihes  of  the  great  Iminan  family  inhabit  this  wiib-  dis- 
trict of  the  globe :  *  tlie  <hu'k-coloiired,  lank-hnircd  pro(;Mathous- 
hcaded  Australians,*  *  the  crisi>-haii-ed  Pelagian  nej^roes,'  and  the 
'  Malayo- Polynesians,'  who  form  the  nobk-r  stuck  in  all  these 
islands. 

The  ^uidwieli  Islands,  as  in  honour  <if  his  patron  they  were 
nnuiett  by  Cajifain  Cuuk  ;  the  Hanaiiaii  Islands,  as  they  are  now 
rommonlv  called;  the  Hawaii  Nei — United  Hawaii — as  since 
the  reign  of  tlie  great  island-conqueror  Kamehameba  I.  they  are 
termed  by  their  own  people — exhibit  one  of  tlic  fairest  forms  of 
this  mcp.  and  it  is  to  them  especially  that  wu  call  the  render's  atten- 
tion. The  work  of  Mr.  Mauley  Hopkins,  tlie  title  of  which  we 
have  placed  at  the  hea<l  of  litis  article,  is  a  creditable  comiieiidium 
of  ulf  tliat  lias  been  written  of  late  years  upon  the  subject,  and, 
in  spite  of  some  faults  of  style,  does  great  credit  to  the  spirit,  dili- 
gence, and  ability  of  tlic  Hawaiian  Consul-Ocneral  in  London. 
It  is  dedicated  by  pcrmissimi  lo  Lord  Russell,  and  u  pivface  has 
been  contributed  to  it  by  the  Bishop  of  OsJbrd,  who  has  explained 
his  special  interest  in  the  volume  from  his  connexion  with  the 
new  mission  which  seeks  to  reprwluce  a  genuine  branch  of  our 
Church  in  the  thief  of  the  Hawaiian  Islands  under  the  auspices 
of  its  own  King.  It  is  this  unusual  circumstance  which  has 
speriutlv  drnwn  our  attention  to  it. 

Other  changes,  indeed,  have  given  us  a  fresh  interest  in  those 
distant  islantls.  'Hie  wise  courage  of  Sir  V..  Lytt^m  Bulwor  tn 
founding  the  colony  of  British  Columbia,  (already  ad^-ancing* 


I 


'  fnstM7  of  Msu.'  p .  326, 


I 


with 


d 


77ie  Jlatcaiian  hlandn. 


221 


with  jriont  striilcs  lo  wpaIiIi  anil  power)  pjives  a  new  value  to 
thcsp  natnrnl  Imltiag^-placcs  in  tlie  vast  I'acifie  Oconn.  In  thon- 
selvifs  liiev  pcisspss  unusual  attntctions.  'I'litftr  very  prescTice  in 
Uiosc  ilcM'p  sc-ns  is  II  problpm  wbicli  our  philosophers  linve  nut 
yet  been  aLIi*  t<>  solve.  Thr  strange  contrast  of  depths  lietween 
llie  ftliulluw  lagoon  within— anil  the  or.e^in,  which  our  Kriunding- 
Itnes  refuse  to  fathom,  without — the  circular  reefs  wliich  are  the 
breakwater  ui"  many  of  these  islands,  has  perplexed  the  most 
duuig  sjK-culators.  UjHjn  the  whole,  wc  believe  the  best  solu- 
tion of  tbeii'  stnin^e  prnsenc-e  !»  to  1h>  fiiuu*!  in  the  sug^stinn 
that  to  the  Mibiner^ed  peaks  ami  ridge;)  of  iihl  mountains,  thcin- 
•clves  the  fruit  ol"  prolKibly  submarine  voleanir  iTuptiotis,  the 
reel-build ingr  iwlypes  originally  fix  their  works,  and  that  these  are 
lifteii  aloft  by  sniwequent  volranie  artion,  to  form  the  suilden 
heights  of  tliose  island  {jroups.  The  vast  machinery  of  animal 
life  which  is  thus  ut  work  \^  beautifnlty  des(Tibet)  bv  Captain 
Matuy: — * 

'  OcMUia  of  nniiniduuhc'  tliat  maku  iho  tiurface  nf  tbu  ma  K|iarklu 
luul  pluw  with  life,  nTC  secreting  from  its  surfnco  solid  nisttcr  for  the 
vtrj-  purpoM  of  hllinw  up  thow  cavities  Iwlow.  Tliese  littlo  mnrino 
ttiKCotiiani  huildiiif!  thuir  iialtitatiimt;  nt  the  surfiieo,  and  when  tliuydiu 
tbcy  remain  in  roKt  maltitudt-s,  gink  do^m  luifl  Hottle  upon  the  bottom. 
Thoy  oro  th»  ntonm  out  nf  which  monntains  wk  formed  and  plains 
Kpn-iul  out.'.  .  .  *  As  tu  the  immensity  «f  Ufi!  and  the  piwur  of  convurting 
iuor^ranic  material,  wc  have  now  hod  specimens  from  tho  bottom  of 
tho  "  blue  water/'  in  tlio  narn>w  Coral  rca,  the  hrooil  Pacifio,  and  tho 
lung  Atlantic,  and  they  all  tull  thi;  same  story,  namely,  that  tin:  bed  of 
tho  ocean  is  a  vast  cemetery.'t  ....  *  The  ocean  especially  mthiu  and 
luior  tlie  tropicH  swarniK  witit  life.'  ^ 

As  soon  as  these  new-born  rocks  are  lifted  from  the  waters,  all 
tlic  varied  atmospheric  influences  beg^in  to  play  upon  them ; 
with  the  changes  which  thestt  work,  the  chance  'jetsam  and 
lotsam'  of  the  restless  waters,  and  tlie  sea-fowl,  tbejr  first  deiil- 
soon  combine  to  form  a  /iiiinuf  into  which  the  seeds  which 
the  driftinf^  cuiTcnts,  t!ie  binls  of  the  ajr,  or  even  the  high  cui^ 
rents  of  the  air,  so  sedulously  transport,  can  strike  tlicir  ruuta, 
and  a  new  flora  thereupon  springs  up.  Then  in  ilue  coui'se,  by 
design  or  accident,  comes  man,  for  whose  life  and  industry  this 
new  sphere  has  bi;en  prepared.  So  Mr.  Hopkins  tells  us  that 
ancient  tmditions  peopled  Hawiiii. 

'  One  of  them  relates  to  a  man  and  wonuin  arriving  at  Hanwi  in  a 
cauoc,  bringing  with  thorn  a  hog,  a  dog,  imd  n  (lair  of  fowls.  TliCBe 
jKtrwoa  bocomo  the  progenitors  of  the  Hawiuiau  people-     liy  uiuthur 


*  Physical  Ovography  of  t)icS*B,'§  '58,  <|uoteil  bv  Iloiikini. 

t   lb.  §-89.  :  §761. 


lAoey, 


77w  Iluuaiiau  hhinds. 


vXwry,  prevalont  among  tlio  itihabitaiibi  nf  Oalio,  a  nnmltcr  of  poreons 
nrrivcf!  in  a  eonoo  from  Tubili,  uid,  jjurcctTing  thftt  the  Sftndvich 
Isluids  were  fertile,  and  were  dwell  in  only  hj  gods  and  spirits, 
ihoy  luslcuil  aud  ulitainLsl  iMiriniiwioii  li>  nettlo  tlicru.'—p.  74. 

il  WHS  a  p1m;r,  Indcc-d,  tn  nliicli  it  was  mast  t^rtain  tlint  sudi 
waiidt-rtTrs  wouM  prtitittn  tu  r<-iri>iiii ;  for  it  iLtKiuiidtrd  in  all 
natural  Iwautv,  wliil&t  its  genial  climate  and  its  fertile  sull  pro- 
vided almost  witbuQt  toil  ail  that'  the  mere  physical  lift-  of  man 
r(>(|uirrs  for  its  supjMit.  Of  Its  climntc  Mr.  Hupkiiis  tells 
us: — 

*  There  Is  scai-cdj  a  plnco  on  the  globo  which  bus  r  tcmpemture  wo 
cqiuil>lo  uH  tlint  tif  Ilcmdlulii,  unu  nf  moro  doMindtlu  rc^inter,  or  nhitro 
Uiu  clouiimts  aro  kindlior  mixed.  Su  inviifHii':  i»  the  HuJijcut  of  w  onUier 
to  the  islaaden,  tbut  Mr.  Jarvis  remarks  tbeii  hmguiige  hm  no  word 
to  (txjtruHK  tho  gt.'iicml  idea,  THu  dinrniL]  raiigo  of  thu  Ihoriodinetor 
in  Houolulii  is  twelve  degrees.  During  twelve  years  the  extromos  of 
temperattiro  in  ehiida  wcro  W°  and  62  ;  the  entire  runge  daring  that 

lung  poriud  not  exceeding  37^ Thu  luutvurd  tudo  of  the  iuiuids 

bflfiks  ID  tlio  "  briglit  snnny  Injise  of  n  long  summur  day ;"  indaclng 
by  the  vary  beauty  of  tlte  weather  soiuo  degree  of  enervation  in  tho 
human  ayateni,  uid  a  corretipouding  "lotus-eating"  coudiUou  of 
mind.  A  more  liraoing  air  may  be  obtained  by  aooending  tlic 
moimtnins.  A  m&rc  ride  tram  tbe  capilaJ  up  the  Nauaoa  Vallej  will 
giTu  IL  cooler  cliiuata  in  an  liuur.  Laliaina,  uud  uumo  other  leoDrard 
spots  on  tho  aboro,  posscM  tho  rofrcsliing  inilncnco  of  a  regular  land 
uid  seu  breeze.' 

Whilst  for  its  rtrrtility,  lin  snys; — 

'Begions  of  fertility  lie  at  tlie  bases  ef  tlio  mOQntain«  and  in  tlie 
valleys,  where  abrueioD  and  disintegration  have  proceeded  for  nntoltl 
years,  and  rich  dopoeitfi  of  rogetablo  monld  have  accinnulatod.' — p.  9. 

And  again : — 

*  Amongst  its  indigennufi  vogctAhlcA  aro  tho  sngar-cano,  the  brtsad- 
frnii,  plnutAin,  b&imna,  coccn-DUt,  candlo-uiit,  ealaloah,  and  nthor 
THihuB ;  trcc-feniB,  having  thu  Bt«m  (iftceu  feet  in  height,  and  ctcm. 
Valnablo  timlier  trees  gnsw  in  thu  foix-sle  on  tho  flanks  of  tho 
mountains  ;  tho  Kuit  troo  (Ccrrlia),  and  others  of  hard  and  heavy  wood 
with  a  haudaume  gnun.     bandiil-wood  abounded  on  the  heights.' 

'  Amongst  tbi  vefjetablos,  too,  is  found  the  "  Taro "  (Aram  emu- 
tattnm).  It  formed  the  Btaplo  of  food,  and  is  still  vcty  generally 
uaud.  This  succulent  root  wae  sometimes  cooked,  but  was  mora 
generally  ptiiwded  into  n  Remi-fluid  moss,  and  allowud  partially  to 
ferment,  when  it  was  called  jwi.  Among  tho  rcasuna  wliich  mado 
some  Uawaiions  object  to  visiting  England  was  that  poi  oonld  not  be 
ubtainoci  burn.  Il  18  su  productive  that  it  has  lH«>n  mid,  a  htro  pit  a 
few  yards  in  lenj^th  will  Hiipply  food  for  ono  man  throughout  the  yoar.* 

Under  this  climate,  and  with  this  luwland  fcrtUitj,  there  is  no 

lack 


I 
I 
I 


I 
I 


The  Hawaiian  hlands. 


2^3 


Inck  nf  the  gronrlfr  frntures  of  natoral  beauty.     Again  we  qnulc 
fruiti  jiagi"  2  of  Mr.  Hopkins: — 

*  On  Apprnncliing  tlio  group  from  certnin  dirocttoDS  tlio  Unit  obj(<ct8 
wliich  mM-'t  the  sight  trc  the  two  lofty  peaks  on  Hawaii,  each  H.OUO 
feet  in  height, — tvro  miles  and  a  balf,— ono  of  thum  capifcd  mtb 
parpotoal  kuovt,  which  c'tintnuitH  wiLli  the  deep  hluo  of  the  tropical  ifky 
uhove^  and  with  the  ilarlmc'ss  of  the  lava  fonuin;;  the  mdcs  of  tlio 
mount^nit.  A  nido  and  irregnlar  outline  of  high  lands  thon  i)re86uta 
itaulf  ^  aud  nn  thc>  north  Kido  am  kgciii,  mi  a  nearar  ticw,  tbo  dark 
foraeta  trhioh  olotho  tho  lower  rogion  of  tho  mouutoinB  ;  wliilst  giddy 
tveoipices  fix)Dt  tho  eoa,  of  from  1(X)U  to  3000  feet  in  pcrpcndictilu 
huit'ht,  afrainst  whotiti  walls  tlu3  WBTiis  heat,  and  surge,  anil  tliuudur 
UiroQgli  tiio  caverns  which  they  havu  hoUowod  for  thciusclrcs  in  thoir 
ooMelflaH  war.  In  some  places,  etreams  which  havo  united  their 
wators  OD  thuir  way,  nudi  t(>guther  uvur  ouo  of  thutio  jtaliii,  or  prcci- 
ptooB^  into  tho  ooean.  8till  noaror,  tho  white  foam  is  stmn  puuriu^^  in 
•h«Btt  over  coral  roefa,  of  which  thtire  ia  Aomatimee  an  outer  aud  'umos 
ridgo.     Tho  ialaudfi  arc  guuorally  lofty.' 

Of  such  a  land  we  may  understand  the  dcscripUnn  waxing 
pocticul,  oven  in  a  king's  speech,  that  driest  nf  all  documents, 
which  Mr,  Pitt,  we  arc  told,  could  utter  at  will.  .We  need  not 
lllfiel'iirc  wonder  to  find  King  Kami'lumclui  IV.,  at  tlie  o]H!nin^ 
of  tliP  *X»tivr  Hawaiian  AgTicuItural  Society,*  In  lSt>B,  ask: — 

'  Who  OTOT  board  of  \nnt*jr  upon  ow  shores  ?  When  wub  it  so  cold 
that  the  Inhoorer  could  not  go  to  bis  field  ?  Whcro  among  lu  nhidl 
wo  find  the  niunbcrk«8  drawbcicVH  which  in  less  favonrod  conntries 
the  working  claeses  hare  to  contend  irith  ?  They  havo  do  place  in 
oiu-  licaitttlul  group,  which  rests  on  the  swelling  bosom  of  the  Pacific 
like  a  watfir-lily,'— p.  333. 

But  not  more  certain  is  the  action  uf  such  a  climate  as  this 
upm  the  vegetable  world,  which  springs  into  exuberant  iKrinp 
nnder  its  smile,  than  u|Hm  tin?  race  of  man  which  is  plmitcd  in 
such  a  gardrn  of  delight.  Fallen  man  ut  least,  with  nu  teaching 
higlicr  than  tliat  of  nature,  must  have  his  energies  braced  by 
labour,  and  self-restraint  taught  him  by  the  daily  discipline  of 
c\tcn»l  trials,  if  the  humanity  witliin  him  is  not  to  lie  softened 
into  luxury  or  to  be  degenerated  by  sensual  indulgence.  \o 
ilonbt  tlie  progenitors  of  the  Hawaiian  people  came  to  their  islands 
of  beauty  direct,  or  ul  most  with  some  intermediate  baitings, 
from  what  we  know  as  the  Imrning  East.  No  doubt  they  bnmght 
with  them  the  vehement  internal  fires  which  mark  their  race— 
it*elf  a  liigh  one  in  the  human  family — in  their  ancestral  homes. 
Nor  have  the  strong  tnices  of  their  blotxl  died  out  amongst  ihcm. 
Fhyslcallv  many  oi  the  chiefs  arc  a  noble  race. 

*  The  Hftwaiiaus  aiv  strong,  wull-made,  aud  active ;  in  hoi^^t  raUur 

above 


22i 


The  Haumi^nt  Tshwts. 


ahnvo  tlio  nvomf^  of  oar  own  eAontiy From  llio  renurlnhla 

height  luid  )>rilk  of  the  cliiefe,  both  malos  and  fcmalos,  tho  dooinani^ 
ulafiK  lias  bccii  coneidcrcd  by  smaa  writors  to  lio  a  (ItKtinct  uud  cou- 

qnoriiig  roco The  womoii  aro  ottmctivo  from  their  cheerful, 

smiliiig.  and  lively  cii>rcsinon  -.  whiUt  their  merrj  laugh  and  plcjuuint 
aloJta.  or  welcome,  show  the  fucti  to  bo  aii  iudos  of  thoir  mmd.'  — 
Pi).  3*4.355. 

Ami  with  thcsf!  phvsirnl  feature*  many  o(  their  moral  cha- 
ractrristirs  eorres|x>n(l. 

'Coumgi! — Ktruugur  than  iHiUering-rnnw  —  m  tlin  IwhIs  of  ovory  fino 
flinractcT.  The  Han-aimnit  poHKCKu  tbo  virhio  in  an  nnqnefttionahly 
high  <Iegrcc.  It  wa^  ahowu  in  the  old  narlikc  times  by  thoir  opt^u, 
Ktuiiding-up  fight.  Tlutir  bodicK  witn;  iinpntteHitpil  by  onnour  or  oven 
liy  I'lntlies  ;  their  waipoiis  -wltc  tho  uptnir,  the  dagger,  tbo  clnb,  and 
stoDoB.  They  did  not  resort  to  artifice  or  ptratagem  in  war.  They 
am  noV  as  pc-acoful  a  |>co|)le  bk  any  upon  (»irtli ;  tliuy  am  nini-c  frco 
frotii  Crimea  of  violence  than  almost  any  nation  that  can  Itc  named. 
Their  natural  courogo cropc out  in  their  lovo  of, and  daaing  io,  riding: 
in  their  delight  hi  swimumig  amiiug  tlio  heavy  brcakera  rolling  uvur 
tbu  Tuefm;  thoir  du^iccnt  of  prucipicos,  and  oven  in  their  games.' — 
p.  Ub. 

*  One  of  their  omusomc&t^  woa  to  attack  a  shark,  and,  after  having 
goudo<l  and  taantoil  liiui,  to  kill  him  with  a  da^er  carried  in  iho 
maro  or  girdle.' — p.  33. 

'  The  w'lmiuii  no  lotigtT  fitllow  Ihtjir  liuKlkaiids  to  the  battle  to 
aLiniich  thoir  wounds  or  fight  besido  them ;  but  they  cndnro  long 
jounieya,  and  bear  lieavy  bimlenii,  swim  tlimugh  the  raging  niirS,  and 
plunge  down  tho  waturfiJI  into  tho  uci'an,  when  Iho  leap  in  forty  fuufc 
and  upwards  in  height.' — p.  .^10. 

Xor  are  they  wanting  in  thosif  sjHmlaneous  bursts  of  potttical 
nnagerv  which  mark  the  presence  of  tlip  inward  light  of  uncx- 
tingoishcd  gmius.  Wo  know  few  Iwirbarous  mvths  more  stiik- 
ing  than  tliat  t-unx-nt  anioiigst  the  Hawaiiiins  whiuh,  in  a  gn-al 
measure,  led,  first  to  Cuptairi  Cook^s  rei-eplum  being  markcil 
almost  with  wor&hip,  and  then,  through  the  humiliating  stagvs 
down  which  bis  nllnwiincR  of  that  worship  ('ondurte<l  him,  to  Lis 
tragical  end. 

'  Uim'  we  read, '  tho  Hawaiian  HcrotUctt,  was  ono  of  tho  mnjor  gods.' 
*  In  a  tit  of  jfuloiiBy  ho  killed  his  wife ;  hut.  driven  to  frcury  by  tho 
B4^t  be  had  cuiomittcd,  bn  wandered  tlmnigh  the  iiOnnds,  boxing  and 
wrestling  mfJi  all  he  mot :  hia  auHWi-r  U>  uvery  astotuslicd  inrpiirer 
hcing,  "  I  am  frantic  with  my  groat  luvc !  "  Having  iu6tituU<d  the 
athli;tie  giuniiK  known  ok  the  Mnbiikiki.  in  hoiiniir  (rf  hiK  wifoK  mo- 
mory,  and  which  wt-ro  ht-Id  amnmlly,  he  sailed  from  Uio  ialaiida  in  a 
triaugtdar  ciuioo,  for  n  fon-igu  Uud ;  but  cru  he  de|HUted  hu  utturod 
UiEh  jkropliooy :  "  I  will  return  in  nflor  timeti  nn  an  ialiuid  bcurtug 
cocoa-nut  ticoa,  swine,  and  dogs."    Cook's  two  aliiitt;,  do  much  lai-ger 

tiuUi 


I 


The  Hawaiian  Itlmuh. 


225 


than  uiy  floating  nbjootR  the  nativos  had  bttliorto  soon,  appeared  to 
tiiem,  Dot  uti|ilHUHilily,  JKlaiidj),  tfao  masts  being  trees  ;  and  dow  Lono 
was  rctumilig  to  his  own  couub-y.  From  Louo  wera  tnippowd  to  Laru 
proceeded  thn  thunder  nod  lightning  of  the  ship's  guns  which  were 
firod.'— p.  85. 

The  same  temper  brenks  out  in  many  of  their  expressions. 
The  Hawaiian  name  (or  their  popular  Minister  Kalaimoku  wns 
one  worthv  of  the  great  statesman  whom  tliey  suppose*!  liim  t« 
resemble;  lor  no  worthier  uamc  could  have  been  given  lo 
William  Pitt  himself  than  that  of  tJie  '  Iron  Cable  of  Ins  country.' 
So,  ton,  when  tlip  unworthy  attempt  of  Lord  Cieorge  I'aulftt,  in 
1843,  to  destroy  the  independence  of  the  islands  by  annexing 
them  to  Great  Britain,  had  beai  disownctt  by  Admiral  Thomas, 
and  the  K  ing'  announced  to  his  peonI(?  the  recovery  of  their  riphts, 
the  gratelul  tidings  were  conveyeil  hv  litm  under  the  expressive 
5gure  that  '  the  light  of  the  laml  had  lieen  ri'storwl  t<i  hira.' 

A  loTC  of  poetry  and  simple  music  pervaded  the  place. 

'Poetry  by  turns  laulted  and  indnincd  itK  native  lioorurK.  Thu  pcfiplu 
wi^rc  fond  of  fabulous  talcs  and  songs,  and  formerly  spent  miieh  of 
their  time  in  telling  stories,  and  crooning  their  milet,  rr  eonge,  to  the 
aect>nipaniiacnt  of  the  miiuII  dniui  or  tht-  muKic-al  Ktick.  ludi^ud  tho 
Hanniians  ei^niLlt&d  the  MaritiU'Stuui,  the  most  lively  uativoR  of  the 
Pucijlc,  iu  the  number  of  their  songs,  and  exceeded  in  that  i-cspeot  the 
8ociuty  lalaiidcrH.' — p.  .1-1-1. 

But  in  spite  of  these  better  symptoms,  we  fear  we  must  admit 
that  fearful  marks  of  degeneracy  are  stamped  up<jn  this  interesting 
people.  From  the  time  when  they  were  first  known  to  us,  thry 
were  marked  by  an  extraordinary  si-nsuality,  and  we  dare  not 
hopt*  that  the  evil  is  yet  subdued. 

Indolence,  wc  are  told,  is  one  grand  fault  attributed  Ui  the 
Hawaiian  race. 

*  It  tH  vi!ry  tnie  tlint  the  delicions,  i»|uub1o  climate  engenders  in  thoso.l 
constantly  within  its  indiiencc  a  lotns-eating  habit,  a  love  of  tho  tMre ' 
far  nivrUv.  Their  alisoltite  wonts  were  few ;  and  as  tho  chiefs  would  1 
havy  pouuci'd  down  on  any  Uttlu  Miirj)liia  tho  people  coiJd  have  aequirod  i 
by  labour,  they  lo^t  the  powerful  stimulus  of  n  desire  to  nconmulatt^* 
—p.  361. 

And  beyond  indolence  grosser  forms  of  sensuality  disfigure  the 
fair  picture. 

'The   fatal   gift  of  beaaty.  a   delicious  climate,  which   rendered 
ulolhiug  uuiieee)<sary- -excopt  the  flowery  wreath,  which  bi>th  Bcxoa, 
worft,  jNirlly  fmin  innatx!  taste,  and  ptu-tly  to  dhado  the  (!yL<s-  -an  iiido*] 
lent    and   pk-asurc-loving  eonstimtion,  abtmdsnt    opportunity,  tht:ir 
booscH  suioil  and  undivided  by  partitions,  and  the  atweniM  of  wlvorsH 
ptddir  opinion,'  havo  Ivd  to  '  a  general  absence  of  ehiwtity  among  tho 

\'nl.  112.— iVif.  2S-S.  H  lU-AKiVow*. 


S26 


77w  Hntoaiian  Islands. 


Hawaiians.  Till  Unght  oUiorwieo  by  the  oiisBionarieB,  the  nstivos 
luul  no  RoncciptioD  that '  bdcU  coudact  was  '  wtoug  or  hortftil :  they  Ltd 
aot  uvuu  a  word  U>  exprusM  tUa^Uty  iu  their  longiugo.' — p.  3-17. 

The  meeting  of  Chrlstinnilv  with  such  n  people  is  a  si^ht  of 
the  deepest  interpst.  I  low  much  has  the  fiiith  to  nccnmplish  In 
purilying  so  deenljr-stainfid  a  race  I  Will  it  work  on  t}if*m  its 
rof^eoeratiii^  work?  Will  tt  show  ilsolf,  indited,  capublr  ofvan- 
quiflhiiig  these  long-«stablishcd  babit»  of  indulf^ence?  In  mnny 
respects  there  were  fewer  iinjicdiments  to  its  reception  than  in 
other  p»rt8  of  heathendom.  There  was,  indeed,  here  an  elnlKirate 
system  of  heathen  worship,  with  priests  and  saerifu-esnnd  idols  in 
vast  abundance,  liut  then?  wss  nu  strong  atlachmejit  tu  it  in  the 
popular  jnind  ;  and  its  rites  were  siiijjriilarly  oppros&ivo  to  its 
votaries.  Most  irksome  was  the  whole  practice  of  *tabu^ — that 
stranffc  instrument  of  priestly  and  of  regal  tyranny,  which  seems 
to  l>c  so  inveterately  present  in  all  the  heathen  tribes  of  Malay 
origin,  oppressing  the  Dvnks  of  Horneo  •  as  well  ns  the  dwellers 
in  the  F(iivn<»ian  Bcas — by  which  any  uhjert  or  person  or  period 
of  liint:  nii-;ht  arbitrarily,  at  the  will  of  ttie  primtii,  be  declared 
to  be  consecrated,  and  so  be  guarded  from  touch  or  use  or  action. 
Thus  tlie  whole  commercial  life  of  a  district  might  at  once  btf 
susjM-ndttil  for  an  indefinite  pc^rim),  and  al>3olute  stagnation  sue* 
cfed  to  the  busy  marketing  of  the  whole  seabinird  population. 
Niir  ilid  tin*  tabu  suspend  mmmerce  only  :  when  its  strictest  note 
was  proclaimed  lights  and  fires  must  be  extinguishe<t ;  alt  amnse- 
ments  were  at  an  end  ;  noonc  might  enjny  the  needed  refreshment 
of  casting  himscii'  mV*  tlia  waves  in  which  tbcy  loved  to  sport; 
lilcncc  must  reign  everywhere ;  nor  even  the  voices  of  the  do- 
mestic animals  might  Im  hoard.  This  religious  system,  more- 
over, was  till-  great  instrument  of  inaintiiining  the  power  of  tlie 
chiefs,  which  nas  absolute  and  oppressive.  Its  5|)eeial  victims 
were  the  women,  whom  it  tended,  by  all  its  regulations,  tji  tie- 
press.  They  were  inhibited,  under  jwin  of  death,  from  shar* 
iDg  the  better  kinds  of  the ordijiary  footl  of  tlie  cuuntr)-.  Amongst 
thosL*  altogether  forbidden  to  them  Mr.  Jarves  enumerates  iKirk, 
turtle,  shark,  bananas,  and  «)eoa-nut.t  To  mix  in  ihe  aocial 
meals  of  the  men,  or  even  to  eat  under  the  roof  which  covered 
their  ajmrtmcnts,  was  visited  certainly  with  the  same  extreme 
peunlty. 

Under  this  bondage  the  people  groaned.  So  early  as  1793^ 
tm  the  occasion  of  Vancouver's  visit,  the  king  and  sevrml  of  lb*! 
chiefs   made    some   movemeuts   towards   casting    it    ofT.     They 


■  See  '  Lift  in  the  Porott  of  the  Far  I^.'    B]r8paiNrS(iJ<ilui,EKi.  Vol. 

t  Jantv, '  Hhlorj  of  Saodwicli  Inlands,'  p.  94. 

entrealeil 


I 
I 

IV 

i 


d 


7Vie  Hawaiian  ItUrnds. 


227 


entreatnl  btui,  when  \\e  left  tkn  islands,  to  send  tlicm  inntntrtors 
■u  the  English  faith  ;  *  a  pmver  which  Mr.  Hopkins  tells  us  Van- 
couver ronveyed  to  Mr.  I*iit. 

No  help,  however,  come  to  thrm  from  Eufrland's  Mitustor  or 
Church ;  and  -io  lon^:  ns  tlic  strung''  hand  of  Kamehamohu  held 
the  w«'ptr«  h('  njaint/iinud  ns  oiiu  yreat  instrumrnt  nf  his  govem- 
ment  thir  old  systi^in  of  rclinriun  ;  but  at  his  dratli  it  was  broken 
rudely  up.  The  arcDunt  of  these  chanji;es  is  nltr^'thrr  rurious. 
Women  were  leading  agents  in  their  introdurtiou.  VVitli  nil  the 
loctal  restraints  laid  upon  them,  the  women  of  Hawaii  pris^sscnl 
at  this  timcunwonti'd  politieal  power,  At  the  King's  right  hand, 
and  a  necessary  sharer  in  his  measures  of  state,  wan  one  who  is 
deaig'natrd  in  thf  narrative  of  Mr.  Hopkins  as  'the  Premier,' 
but  who,  from  the  account  of  Mr.  Jarves,  might,  perbajis,  bc^  more 
jiTojierly  ilesignattnl  the  Home  SecretaT}',  whose  t-iiunter-signatan* 
was  essential  to  all  state  papers,  and  who  was  a  wimian.  l/Cl  no 
evil-minded  person  suggest  that  this  is  an  imitation  of  certain 
VVi'steni  constitutional  jf4)vernments,  or  drop  a  bint  as  to  old 
■  womea  iK-ing  elsewhere  in  possession  of  the  Premiership  ;  for  the 
^L  institution  was  purely  of  Hawaii  origin,  aud  ilates  from  the 
H  CoiK(uering  founder  of  the  island-dynasty  of  KamobamfOtu  I,, 
W  who  in  his  will  declares  *  tbc  kingdom  is  Liholiho't,  and  Koa- 
^       liuuaiiu  is  his  ministcr.'t 

^^Kt  The  old  Kini;  was  succei'ded  by  this  son  Liholiho, — who,  with 
^^^Ulis  tjueen,  died  iifteTwiiids  during  his  visit  to  England, — whilst 
^^Hdie  dcsignatnil  Queen,  Kaohutnatiu,  a  woman  of  great  strength  of 
^^charactf^,  elaimml  in  virtue  of  his  will  tii  be  the  coadjutor  nf  his 
son.  The  old  King  hul  somewhat  ruggedly  rejected  tlie  new 
faith.  *By  faith  in  your  God,*  he  had  answered  bis  would-be 
converters,  '  yuu  say  anything  can  be  accomplished,  and  the 
Christian  will  1k'  pre»er\e<l  from  all  harm:  if  so,  cast  yourself 
clown  from  ymider  precipiee;  and,  if  you  aie  preserved,  1  will 
believe,'}  His  favourite  Queen  had  at  this  time  no  leaning* 
\a  the  new  faith,  but  she  had  a  contempt  for  the  old.  She 
encouraged  the  hesitating  Prince,  who  had  succeeded  to  tlie 
throne,  to  cast  aside  tlie  restraints  of  its  vexatious  nile.  He  longed 
for  bis  freedom  with  the  fierceness  of  a  savage  libertine,  but  trcm- 
lileil  before  tlie  threatening  shadows  of  his  old  superstition. 
How  long  he  might  ha*'e  tremliled  witliout  believing,  or  how  far, 
if  no  sudden  step  had  been  taken  in  some  At  uf  siekness,  tlio  old 
Mrrors  of  bis  heathenism  might  hare  repossessed  and  mastered 

*  Jarvca,  ihid.,  p.  1S7. 

t  C«i'>tA>n  \Vi]l(«g'  *  ODit«d  Suies  Exploring  ExpctUtwo,*  tdU  iv.,  p.  34, 

;  Clvv«lsud'B '  Voyages,'  toK  i,  p.  »»9. 

4  2  bis 


22S 


Tin'  Hatpaiian  Islands. 


his  mincl.  it  is  impossible  tn  say.     Hut   the  coailjuttir  Quer 
possessed  a  firincr  purpose. 

'  Shfl,  rleturmiiicfl,'  ok  Mr.  JarvQK  J(i«cui1m»  tlio  scuue,*  'in  her] 
opposition  to  tbo  priests,  prepRrod  for  decinivo  muosureti.  Slio  scntl] 
vrord  to  the  King,  tbat  upon  hiti  turiyttl  at  KHilna  she  should  cart 
miiiU)  liis  god.  Tii  tluK  liu  tiiiulu  uo  uljjvotioii,  uud  with  lu«  rutiuuers 
piiKhed  utf  in  cimooH  from  t)ie  shore,  ami  iiiilulgc-d  on  thowat^ir  for  two - 
dare  in  a  drunken  rerol.  lie  tbon  smoked  and  drank  with  the  feuala^ 
cLiefo. 

*  A  feaitt  WM  prepared,  after  the  customs  of  the  conntry,  with  sepa- 
rate tahles  for  the  soxes.     A  number  of  foroignors  wtro  cntci-tainca  ivt 
tbit  King's.    Wbcu  all  were  lu  tlioir  seats  bu  dL-Hbcrately  arose,  wtuitj 
to  thn  place  rpserved  for  tho  women,  and  seated  hinifujlf  ftmong  thrni.f 
To  complete  the  horror  of  the  superstitions,  he  indolgcd  his  appetite  in 
finely  partaking  of  the  viands  prepared  for  them,  directing  them  to  do] 
likewiso :   but  nitli  a  viithinco  which  allowed  thiit  he  hml  but  balfj 
<livcsted  himself  of  tho  idea  of  sacrilege  and  of  habitnal  repugn  nnoe.  I 
This  act  was  stifiicient:  tho  highest  had  set  an  exomplo  which  all 
r^joictxl    to   follow.      The    glnildeuing    cry   arose,    *' Tho    taboo    ia 
bniken !    the  taboo  is  hi-okcn ! "      Fcnsts  were  provided  for  all,  ail 
which  both  sexos  indiscriminately  indulged.     Orders  were  issued  to 
demolish   the  boiaus  and  dtwU-oy  tho  Idola.     Tuiapk'v,  images,  and 
saured  property  were  burnt.     The  flames  consumed  tho  sacrod  w-lica  I 
of  ages.    The  high  priest,  llewahewo,  who  was  the  first  to  apply  tho 
lurch,  aud  without  wnosu  co-opi^ratiou  thu  attemi>t  to  rerolutinniKu  tho ' 
uld  system  would  have  be«ii  ineffectual,  roedgnea  his  office.     Nunibcra 
of  his  profussioii,  joining  in  the  euthusiam,  followed  his  example. 
Idolatry  was  ubolisliL-d  by  law.     Kauiuitalii  eurdially  gave  his  sanctiou.  , 
All  tho  islfinds,  uniting  in  an  exulting  jubilee  at  their  deliverance,  pro-  ' 
scntcd  the  singular  spcctAolo  of  a  nation  without  a  religion.* 

It  is  said  that  as  many  as  40,000  idols  were  ile-stroyrd. 

'They  wum  hurled,'  soyfifttr.  Hopkins, '  from  their  plnces  where  they  I 
had  been  worsliipped,  upon  every  high  hill  and  under  every  green  tree  ; 
they  M-ere  contemptaously  tossed  asid«  to  jHirish,  or  nioru  conttmp- 
tuously  Itifl  forgotten  as  they  st^MHl  docjiying  in  grimiing  iiiilweility. 
Itnmninii  of  these  **  dcsplsc^l  broken  idols  "  arc  still  occasionally  to  bo 
found  in  the  islands;  but  they  arc  regarded  as  curiosities  interest- 
ing only  as  belougiug  to  a  former  Ktiiic  nf  thiugH.  Then,  to  (iuicy'H 
CAT,  caniu  moaning  along  the  rocky  shores,  murmuring  in  tiio  passionate 
momitain  torrents,  and  sighing  in  the  winds,  the  molantuioly  wail, 
"Great  Pan  is  dead!"  Through  the  old  primeval  fun-sts  clothing 
thu  Aauks  nf  thu  Volcanoes,  eclioing  from  drend  previpirea,  and  hoard 
on  the  winds  that  rushed  down  smiling  %-alleys,  come  tho  sftino 
despairing  strain,  ''•  Great  Pan  is  dead  V  The  Ocoan,  as  he  ran  his 
Waves  hoarsely  on  (bo  rude  alioro  and  into  resonnding  tiavenui,  tkujk 
np  tho  universal  cry.    "  Blush,  O  Zidon,  eaith  the  aea/'  woa  fonuerly 

•  CleveUnd's  '  Vny»go«,"  p,  sie. 


77itf  Ilaicaiiait  Islaitds. 


tba  ftifaortiiticin,  wLcb  vilu  rttw  ]>nUntcd  and  humnn  sucrifioos  torritiod 
the  Sjriau  uliurB :  but  uow,  as  tbc  coming  tidu  8«Qt  iu  bur  white 
hmkkoni  and  boomed  over  the  coral  ledges  of  Hawaii,  tho  triumpbiuil 
Miig  vrliich  iiiiu^lod  with  tliu  niar  of  iviktera  had  the  same  bortbcD, — - 
"  Gnat  Pail  {»  dead  !  "  '  * 

Bat  such  a  revolatiou  could  not  fail  tu  stir  op  the  opposltjoq^ 
'tome. 

*  A  fioroc,  tynuDiieal  ftaocrdntalism  wonid  not  ootiseot  without  A 
fitrtigglo  to  bu  tuniL-d  iidrifl  with  the  ]irofi{)t'ct  Ucfuni  it  uf  itH  iiu-mlx^rA 
having  to  Htnrvc,  or,  sttU  we>nK,  of  having  to  obtain  a  livcliliofid  by 
the  hoUL'Kt  lubuur  of  thuir  Iiiindit.     At-.cordingly,  a  patij'  wiii>  (jiiickljr 
fonned   to    oppose  the   Tnovi;nieut,    and    fur   its   head    was    svlL-otcai 
Kekaokoloui,  a  priost  only  iiifurior  iu  rank  tu  Uewahewa,  and  vhf 
was  also  uephuw  to  tbo  lato  kiiig.     Heligittn  n*iu>  mado  the  bait  tu 
allnnT  bitn  in  revolt ;  hut  in  addition  ho  was  to  have  tbo  oronri  of  the 
kingdom.     Tho  robols  were  soon  encountered  by  the  GoTommeut 
party,  and  iu  a  slight  eugagement  gained  a  gucuums.     Thuy  iuunu- 
diatoly  niarvhod  from  their  prieition  to  where  the  King  lay,  hoping 
enrprisc  and  take  tbo  position.    The  King's  troops  wore  proporod^ 
and  adyanced  to  m<itti  th«m.     Tliey  formed  a  Hue  on  Uie  ahoru,  having 
thu  Mia  at  Uinir  hack,  and^  on  tho  enemy  appearing,  drove  tJiom  before 
thorn  np  a  rising  ground,  tUl  the  roboU  gained  a  sbclt^^r  tram  a  stouo 
fence,  and  for  a  time  made  a  stand  ;  but  they  were  at  length  driven 
fnim  their  position  by  a  party  <>f  KnInimokii'R  warriors.     The  iti8ur- 
gcnts  wore  now  in  flight ;  but,  rallied  by  their  misgtuded  cliiof, 
wounded  and  weak  from  Iors   of  blood,   they  mado  a  final  staud.^ 
Kfslitiucikalani,   ^^-ith    the  cuiiragu   tliat   belonged   h>  his    i-aoii,   fought 
dc^pcnituly ;  but  ho  fainted  and  fell  daring  tho  cDgagcmcut.     an 
I'civiveil,  howot-L^ ;  and  sitting  on  a  fragment  uf  lava,  for  he  was  touJ 
weak  to  stand,  twteo  loadod  Iuh  luuiUiot  aiid  (ircd  on  thu  ailvai]eiii|f< 
party.    Ho  was  then  Btmck  by  a  ball  lo  tho  left  breast,  and.  cc^vcriug 
uiK  face  with  his  feather  cloak,  he  expired,  amidst  frionds  who  sur- 
roimdwl  him.     Win  wife,  Maiinna,  hod  fought  by  his  hido  the  whitlt 
with  danntlcss  coonigo ;  bat  as  soon  as  she  saw  him  lying  dendl 
called  for  qnai-ter.     As  the  words  were  leaving  bur  li]>ft,  ii  ballf 

lek  her  temple  ;  ruiil  tbo  faitliful  wife  fell  ou  the  li&less  body  uf* 
her  hnsband,  and  expired. 

'  The  engogeiaent,  which  commenced  in  tlio  forenoon,  vu  continued 
till  suusci,  the  idolat^jrH  fighting  uii.  thuugh  dispirited  by  tho  loss  of 
thbir  Irodcr.  By  evening,  the  King's  troojis  wero  led  nuuiterH  of  the 
field,  their  enemies  bavin;;;  by  that  time  fnirronderod  or  Hod. 

'  Tlius  ended  the  la>it  battle  which  Hawaiian  history  has  to  nnord.*  f 

Tlius  wns  idolntrv  extirpntitl  In  Hawaii,  uut  by  the  counter 
influenfT  of  the  true  faith,  Imt  by  the  simple  weariness  felt  bv 
the  idulaters  themselres  of  its  intolerable  Toke.     isuch  an  event 


'  StitHl«i«li  Ulaadt,'  p.  181. 


+   P.  166. 


IS 


230 


The  IJauxtiiMt  Itlundji. 


u  not  without  b  counterpart,  la  tho  pspen  recently  laid  before 
Parliament,  as  U>  the  rejection  of  the  offer  of  the  l''iji  inlanden 
to  cede  their  country  to  tbi?  British  Crown,  wc  find  it  stutcd  by 
Mr.  Prilchanl,  in  a  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Mahnesbury,  that  "one- 
ttiinl  of  the  ]>opulatinii  bas  embraced  Cbristianitv,  wbile  nearly 
aner^uat  number  have  merely  renounced  dicir  heathenism  without 
attaching;  themselves  to  any  cn^cd.'  * 

The  destruction  of  the  idols  had  taken  place  in  Angiut,  1819; 
and  in  the  early  spring  of  the  succeeding  year  the  first  actual 
mi^ionarics  from  aoy  Christian  land  laiuled  on  the  Islands.t 
They  were  Congregational! sis  sent  from  Boston  bv  the  American 
Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Alissions.  \ever  could  the 
messengers  of  the  Christian  Chorch  have  found  a  land  more  prc- 
jrarrd,  in  mmt  rcsiwrts,  to  receive  the  joyful  messitgc.  The  hand 
iif  Providence  itself  had  swept  away  tlie  old  heathen  pi-ovision 
for  supplying  those  deep  cravings  for  some  religion  which  are 
implanteii  in  every  reasonable  soul,  and  it  seemed  as  if  it  needed 
but  that  the  Standard  of  the  Cross  should  be  lifted  up  to  drasr 
all  men  unto  it.  Into  the  details  of  the  Mission  work  thus  iiitr«>- 
duced,  it  !s  not  our  intention  to  enter.  We  have  traced  it  rapidly 
out  in  a  former  article,  and  we  have  nothing  to  withdi'aw  of  what 
we  then  said,  either  in  the  way  of  narrative  or  of  anticipaCioa. 
We  shall  content  oureelves  here  by  endeavouring  to  take  a 
general  estimate  of  the  effects  of  their  work,  and  of  the  degree  to 
which  it  still  leaves  the  field  open  to  other  endeavours. 

Witli  all  the  favourable  circumstances  then  which  seemctl  tw 
promise  the  fullest  success  to  the  American  Mission,  there  stood 
in  the  way  of  any  true  reception  of  the  Gospel  of  purity  the 
huge  obstacle  to  which  we  have  above  alluded.  Nur  ore  we 
disposed  at  all  to  undervalue  its  power.  We  do  not  forget  the 
fearful  words  in  which  ll>alvian  finds  a  reauju  for  the  permitted 
ravages  of  the  W'est  by  the  incursions  of  the  barbarians,  in  the 
impossibility  of  clcnn^lng  degenerate  Christendom  by  any  liglitur 
discipline  from  such  ficshlv  sins. 

Nor  do  we  for  an  instant  lost-  sight  of  the  shameful  facH,  tliat 
the  sin  of  Hawaii  has  be<>n  stitreid  into  a  fiercer  flame  by  the 
deadly  contagion  of  Christian  vice,  English  vessels  of  war, 
American  ships,  the  reckless  crews  of  whalers,  and  escaped 
roiivicta  from  Botany  Bav,  have  all  aggmvated  the  evil  ;  and 
seemed  to  the  lipalhen  lo  establish  the  terrible  conclusion  that 
Christianity  itself,  whatever  great  words  its  teachers  might  speak 
concerning  its  might,  was  powerless  against  the  raging  appetite 

•  '  Corr«4i>0Dil«DCe  reladre  tnthe  Fiji  Itloiiil*,'  p.  5. 

t  Mr.  Ellis  savH,  the;  reoefaed  Hawaii  FtfliriiarjlUi.  Mr.  Jsrres  gives  Marcli  SO 
OS  tile  Atf  of  Uinr  smvnl. 


I 


Tlte  Ilatraiian  hluiidt. 


m 


of  mnn.  All  these  reallv  trcmcadous  difficulties  wc  allow  for  to 
llip  full. 

Nor  ilo  we  doubt  tlmi  iiidlvidunl  cases  of  true  rcnrwtil  liovc 
blessed  ihe  zealous  lubciurs  of  tbesc'  jiR-ncht'rs  of  rigUlcousncss. 
Some,  indeed,  of  tlicir  converts  rise  even  to  glorious  piopor- 
tions  in  the  new  life.  Few  acts  of  Christian  heroism  con  be 
found  in  any  records  to  exceed  that  of  Kiijiiolnni,  the  wife  uf 
Nttike,  Oic  public  orator  of  the  kingdom.  The  whole  nncieut 
religion  of  Hawaii  wns  in  great  ineasuro  coloured  b_v  the  awful 
valranic  phenomena  of  which  these  islands  ore  still  the  tlieairc. 
Nowhere  else  on  the  face  of  tlie  known  world  are  these  so  atu- 
peiidous.  To  deprecate  the  wralh  of  the  spirits  of  power  wKo 
ruled  over  dicse  firc-orpics  of  Nature  by  sacrifices  of  every  kind, 
rising  up  to  tliosc  of  Xian,  was  the  object  of  their  rude  rittuil. 
Tlie  religion  thus  inspiretl  Mr.  Jarves  tells  us  was — 

*m  gloomjr  and  fearl'td  piinciplo,  abonndlnf;  in  punishment  in  the 

pTBiiont  life,  and  dot-k  thrcat«niii^s  fur   Uio  fatoro  (p.  40) 

Tho  must  fi-urftd  of  nil  tlinno  deitit^R  wan  Vele,  a  goddefw.  Her  habi- 
tation, the  famous  volcano  uf  Kilauca,  well  accordotl  with  her  repnt«d 
ohazaotor.  lloio  with  bur  uttemUuit  epirils  sho  mvoUcd  in  the  flautos. 
The  mii«rtliljr  nuisus  uf  the  buniimg  maau  were  the  mosiu  of  their 
ilanc'o,  aii<l  tboy  bathed  in  the  red  surge  of  the  fivry  billows  w  it 
duhed  against  the  sides  of  tbo  orator.'— p.  4G^ 

To  the  base  of  this  vast  volcano,  which  covers  one  liuiidred 
and  twenty  square  n>iles,  the  old  heathenism,  driven  from  the 
rest  of  Hawaii,  slowly  retreated — gatherinff  up  its  forces  lor  tlic 
last  encounter  with  the  new  religion.  Hither,  to  confront  in 
their  very  Lome  of  power  the  priests  of  the  old  faith,  came  fnmi 
afar  this  adventurous  princess.  She  had  a  journey  of  one  huiidrctl 
wiles  to  accomptibh  before  she  reached  the  mountain.  As  she 
nu.'ired  its  side,  a  j>ruphetess  of  the  insulted  goddess  met  her 
will)  warnings  and  denunciations  of  destruction.  Rut  she  nn- 
dauntcdly  persevered ;  and,  upon  the  black  ledge  of  the  scetliing 
fire,  she  spoke  in  Monls  of  the  calmest  faith  to  the  anxious  com- 
pany who  waited  to  ace  how  the  wrath  of  the  goddess  would 
break  foith — 

*  Jcborab  is  my  Ood.  He  kladlod  these  fires.  I  foar  Dot  Felu. 
If  f  perish  by  the  Bngi>r  of  Pelo,  Uion  yon  inny  frar  tlu^  power  n{  Pelo. 
Bat  if  Jcliovtth  shall  save  tno  from  the  wrath  of  Pole,  when  I  brenk 
ttmttigh  her  Uiht'ti,  then  you  most  fear  and  servo  the  Lord  Jeborali. 
All  tho  guda  of  Hawaii  aro  vain.' 

We  bare  a  description  of  the  features  of  the  scene  in  tlio 
midst  of  which  these  words  of  calm  confidence  in  God  were 
spoken  ',  it  is  from  the  pen  of  tluit  world-wide  traveller  (hir  Count 
Strzclecki : — 

*Wh«t 


Tlie  Hawaiian  hhtiuh. 


'What  1  rcnicmbei','  lio  sajtf,  in  tfao  *IlawiLuiui  Spectator,'  *u 
«1iowiug  the  mighty  infiaence  of  mighty  objecto  iipou  me.  are  the 
ilifliciiltii-j^  I  hiul  t'>  stnigglo  wiUi  l]i<f(tni  my  vya  cuuld  ho  torn  awaj 
I  ftgoi  the  idle,  viicuiit,  hrit  ccetutic  gazes  with  whifh  I  rpgonlnl  the 
gECat  whole,  di>mi  to  tho  ouutrtical  part  of  the  nii]'nrallcled  Hoene 
mjforu  mu.  I  tuiy  iiiii)iLnilli;h;(i,  Imcaiim!,  luiving  visited  moat  of  the 
Knmpoan  und  Amorifwi  volcanoes,  I  find  tho  gi'cntcHt  of  thpiii  inferior 
to  Kilattoii  in  intensity.  gmiKLnir.  and  cxt4;at  or  ai'ca. 

'Tho  nbrnpt  and  )>t\.'eipiliius  cliff  whieh  fumiH  tho  uorth-nortb-coHt 
wall  of  tlio  (tmter,  fotiiiil,  hfler  my  wpented  nlwervatintis,  to  lie  olo- 
vated  four  thuUMaud  one  UimtlrL-d  and  four  feet  above  the  level  nf  tho 
Sua,  OTcrluiQgn  nn  area  of  threo  tuiUiuu  ouo  huiidrud  and  fifty  thousand 
H^iiaru  yiu-du  of  ba]f-c(H)le<1  mviriis  Kunk  to  tho  depth  of  thruo  hundred 
yanU,  v>d  contaicing  more  than  thrL'«  hnudred  aiid  t^venty-eiglil  Uioa- 
Hand  RqUATO  yards  of  oouvuhted  torrunts  of  earths  iu  igiieotui  fusion, 
and  gaaoous  flniils  constantly  iifTtirvL^iiciiig,  Ixriling,  HjHinting,  rolling  iu 
nil  dirccrtionn  like  waTca  of  a  disturbed  aoa,  violently  beating  the  t^e 
of  tlie  caldtoua  lOce  an  infuriated  surf,  and,  like  rarf.  spreading  all 
arouud  il«  spray  in  the  fnrm  of  capiUary  glaHfi.'whirh  tills  the  air, 
and  odhopes  in  a  flaky  and  pt-ndolous  form  to  the  difttnrti-d  and 
broken  mawca  of  tlie.  luva  all  oroimd  ;  five  caldrons,  each  of  aboal 
tivo  thousand  soTon  himdrcd  itquaro  yardtt,  almu«t  at  the  loved  of 
tbe  great  arua,  and  coiitivining  only  the  twelfth  pirt  of  the  red 
liquid. 

•Tito  Fixth  caldron  i»  encircled  by  a  wall  of  oecumuloted  flcoria  of 
tifty  yni'db  high,  forming  the  Boath-BODth-wcet  point ;  the  Hale  mtw 
iflflw.  to  which  the  bonfis  of  the  former  high  chiefs  wore  cjm«igned, 
tho  RwinfircB  to  the  goddetiiH  Pole  nflL-red,  tlio  abytw  of  abytwes,  tho 
caldron  of  ctildroiiy,  exhibiting  the  most  irightful  area  of  three  hnn- 
dred  tboneand  siiuaru  ynixls  nf  bubbling  md-bi>t  lava,  idianging  ince»- 
ttoutly  ita  level,  Mtmotimes  r<dling  tho  long,  eurled  tvuvca  witli  broki'U 
uiaaiioa  of  cooled  eruirt  lo  one  side  of  the  borriblo  laboratory ;  aomo- 
timc«,  as  if  they  bad  made  a  uiiBtukc,  tuniing  tliinn  bark  with  flpodting 
fury,  luid  a  KubUirraiifioiZA.  tnrrifir  noise,  of  a  Bonnd  nioro  infcirual 
than  t-arthly.  Around  are  bloeica  of  lavn,  scoria.  Hinge  of  every 
description  and  combination  ;  hero  t^Iuvated,  by  tbo  endless  nnmbcr  of 
HU^kcrimposod  layerK,  in  jK:r[H)ndicnlar  walU  one  Ihoumuid  foot  high  \ 
Uiem  torn  asunder,  cracked,  or  remoulded  ;  overywhero  terror,  con- 
vuleiou— mighty  engine  of  nature — nothiugnosa  of  man  I ' 

Such  was  the  Mteni-  in  wlilrli  stood  tbe  undanntnl  uilncss  for 
Jehoi-ah.  All  old  ttaditions  bid  her  lielit-vc  tliat  tln-Bc  tliiocs  of 
convulsed  Nature  were  tlie  dirpcl  ]>ersonal  art*  of  the  prt'senl 
yoddcss  whose  wrath  she  dare<i.  The  I'ery  name  by  which  the 
natives  de&frjbo  llic  vitreous  Hakes  which  ilcw  wihlly.  like  ymy- 
loeks,  aruuitd  the  vuht  idKistn,  the  'hair  of  Pele,'  ivitiic^sfs  lit  the 
intensity  of  life  witli  \kliii-h  the  nhl  sujH-rstition  liad  invcstol 
every  act  of  that  fieiy  dmuia.  Calm  she  stuud  there  in  the 
majesty  of  faith,  cast  unhurt  with  nn  untrerobling  hand  the  sacred 

berries 


77(('  Uatntiian  Islmids. 


233 


brrries  into  tbe  labuurinj^  caldron,  and,  likf^  the  'i*hrcc  Children 
)tf  old,  Ipft  tlw  boming:  rurnace  without  th«?  smell  of  fire  having 
jjassed  u|Hiii  hrr — tlir  dt-stioviT  <if  tlip  last  lingering  drrnd  of 
llie  litiig-dDinitiaiit  'Taliu.* 

The  native  character  which  could  _vii?Id  inn;  such   K[M>ciiTicn 
must  be  capable  of  great   things.     Still,   upon  the  whole,  we 
cannot  gather  that  the  mighty  work  of  national  regeneration  has,! 
as  ret,   been  sueccssfultv  accomplished.      Facts  witli  whii-h  we 
will  not  stain  these  pages  would  seem   to  imply  tliat  the  old 
f'iees  of  tlie  i»hind!>  have  rather  lj<*eri  varnished  over  than  eraili- 
cated,  and  that  deep  down  in  the  nation's  heart  the  dejidly  evil^ 
stiil  festers  <>n  unhealed.     The  depopulation  of  die  islands  aecm«i 
to  continue,  and  its  main  causes  an;,  we  tear,  what  they  were  of 
old — sensuality,  and  its  ever-constant  concomitant  a  pitiless  in- 
bntieide. 

How  far  the  American  missionaries,  with  all  their  noble 
designs  and  charitahlc  labours,  have  brought  to  hear  up<m  this 
people  all  the  healing  intluences  of  tlip  Gospel  dispensation  it 
with  us  the  question  yet  to  be  s*»lvcd.  V\V  believe  that  they 
liave  not.  Such  a  people,  in  the  first  place,  needed,  we  iH'lievp, 
to  have  Christianity  brought  to  bear  upon  them  with  as  full  a] 
measure  as  she  allows  of  all  that  ap]>cals  in  doctrine,  iu  worsliip, 
aa<l  in  manners  to  the  iniagtnatiun  and  the  feelings  as  well  as  to 
tlie  reason  und  the  conscience.  Instead  of  this,  in  dealing  wit 
this  peoph*  all  has  been  pare«l  «towu  to  tbe  sharpest  outline  ol 
puritanical  severity.  And  this  temper  has  per*'aded  all  (he 
dealings  ol  the  missionaries  with  their  converts.  TTiey  have,  it 
seems  to  us,  to  a  great  degree  sought  to  put  down  vice  bjr 
coercion  ratlier  than  to  raise  men  out  of  it  by  the  f^lorious  truths 
wliicli  flow  from  the  doctrine  of  tlie  Incarnation  of  our  Lord. 
'  A  people,'  says  one  of  their  warmest  admirers,* 

'  Chat  livo  like  tho  lluwaiiaiiii,  cftnaot  he  virtuous  and  pure,  how  fw 
flOavor  they  may  bu  ChritiLiiuiiiEod;  imd  yijt  tlu-ough  the  rigour  of  tbo 
Ian,  tlio  vigilanco  «f  niogtstnttes  unil  ctJUMtubloit,  thu  discipliiui  oud 
reatnunts  of  the  Chtu-uh,  it  is  probable  that  there  in  no  more  liccn- 
tiooaiioes  than  among  the  fuuuo  Dumber  of  inhabitants  in  cities  of 
iSngland,  Franco,  or  America.' 

We  confess  that  we  have  little  faith  in  works  of  moral  healing 
which  arc  accomplished  by  the  agency  of  the  constable ;  and  as 
to  the  relative  estimate  which  is  formed  by  our  author  of  the 
morality  <d'  the  cities  of  England,  France,  or  America  when 
compared  with  that  of  Hawaii,  we  must  remind  him  of  other 
wonls  of  his  own,  on  which  wc  will  make  no  comment :  *  Almost 


•  Tbe  Ker.  U.  T.  CbMrn,  -  The  Islsod  Worid.'  p.  lau. 


ill 


S31 


Tim  liatnaiian  Islawi*. 


ail  tbo  suspcnsionB  of  church-mcmbctnbip  have  been  on  accouni 
of  ndultcn*,'  &c."  *  The  people  arc  but  h.-ilf-reclnlmcd  savnf^s.'  t 
*  TliiTf  arc  (.auscs  nt  work  wliich,  if  iiiey  are  not  jmhjii  nrrestedf 
will  rnsurc  tiatiaiial  (le|)opulation.'{ 

Wo  think  that  wr  lUscuver  everywhere  traces  of  the  American 
missionaries  trcatJaj;  the  people  far  tan  much  aschililron.  This 
tendency,  minglpd  with  much  of  tlie  old  severity  of  PuriLmistn, 
u>u5t  hare  been  iiio&t  rcpufjTiant  to  all  the  natural  did)M>sittiiiis  uf 
this  remarkable  race,  ouch  is  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Hopkins  as 
to  the  constitutions  which,  under  their  iiitlucnce^  were  udopted 
I  OS  the  nation's  code  o(  Jurisprudence ; — 

'"Tbo  Oomtitntion"  proceeds  to  organize  laws.  Porbapa,  in 
ig  thaae,  they  may  appear  to  adhere  more  closely  to  the  letter 
'  than  to  tlio  spirit  of  Ood's  laws  undar  the  Moeaio  dispeiuatitiu.  iXi. 
Siiojwou  pruuonnccs  them  to  be  the  Blue  Laws  of  Connecticut,  with 
the  addition  of  powers  conferred  on  officers  to  {irartiflo  extortion  and 
tyranny,  not  ovon  possosaod  by  a  Turkish  pasLu.  Tho  codo  of  law* 
regiUati^  taxation,  gratuitua»  tuboor  of  tlie  peojdo  for  thu  ijovunuaent, 
rcut  of  land.  It  cnactrt  curionit  regulations  for  tho  suppression  of 
idlttnoHH  and  onchaHtity.  If  a  man  were  found  "  sitting  iillo,  or  doing 
nothing ''  on  ono  of  tho  days  when  he  was  freo  from  guvcmmunl 
lalioiu*,  eTen  then  an  officer  might  sot  him  at  work  for  tho  government 
till  tbo  ovoning.  Thus,  like  the  boy  at  school  who  was  doing  nothing, 
ho  was  effectually  taught  not  to  do  it  again.  But  the  inventive  genins 
of  tho  new  lawgivers  oxjuttiated  most  ardontly  in  regulations  roUting 
to  the  vicos,  orimcs,  and  sins  of  uuchastity.  It  seems  as  if  they  hsd 
spent  days  and  nights  in  cuosiduring  tho  subject,  and  prci<oDting  it  in 
tho  most  uuw,  iuguniuUB,  and  unexpuufaid  lights.  Thu  result  of  thtur 
dolibcrations  wns  a  sort  of  network  very  complex  and  very  rototo,  yet 
imc(]^nal  in  its  texture,  and  oven  id  parte  open  to  Uion's  reproach  of 
Liws,  that  they  caught  tho  small  flics  and  iulowed  tlio  great  ones  to 
bronk  throngh.  Suffice  it  for  the  present  to  say,  that  in  tho  "  Law 
reflecting  Lewdness "  distinctions  arc  drawn  which  aro  rather  fine 
than  nioe,  with  hoary  peiudtics  fur  those  who  xM)iis«ifls  mnnoy;  while 
disproporiinnntoly  sovora  puuishmcnts  were  nffixcd  to  irrognlnritiee 
which  moraUty  condemns,  but  abont  which  European  legislation  is 
ailunt,  cuncciviug  itself  concDmod  with  crimes  ratbiv  than  vices,  and 
leaving  tho  ptmishment  of  sin  to  another  tribtmal.  As  an  instanoo  nf 
this  disparity,  in  a  case  where  tho  money  fine  for  breaking  tho  law  was 
fixed  at  tn-buty  dollars,  ita  o^nivaleut  was  fivo  months'  impnsoumcnt 
— an  impriHuuiQiiut  in  which  all  tho  days  were  to  ho  spent  in  hard 
labour,  and  all  tlio  nights  pastted  in  heavy  manacles.' — pp.  355,  '25G. 

But  there  are,  we  lielieve,  at  work  causes  even  dwper  than 
these,  which  were  frustrating^  the  best  u-fForrs  of  tiit-se  <levolod  men. 
It  wouhl  be  to  enter  upon  questions  too  distincti^^-•ly  tbcologicul 
if  we  proceeded  to  inquire  at  any  length  whether  the  causes  of 


'  The  Ul»nA  WorM,'  p,  ItU. 


fib. 


t  tb.  p.  193. 


tbiy 


The  Hawaiian  hiasiiU.  235 

tbis  comparative  failure  in  their  missions  are  not  involved  in  th(> 
Tttligiou*  sjAtcm  of  the  Cong^re^atinnalists ;  but  we  cannot  quit 
the  subject  without  sufrgestinjc;  it  as  a  matter  for  the  {^invest 
rcflertion.  In  some  of  the  cities  of  ancient  Greece,  cs]>ccinllv  at 
Oiriiith,  the  first  preacher*  of  the  Gospel  lm<i  to  strive  ngninst 
the  pnsvalenn*  of  rustoms  of  which  it  wn*  a  shame  fur  Christians 
even  tn  speak.  Ami  how  did  they  deal  with  them?  There  is 
no  withholding;  of  emphatic  declarations  of  '  the  wratli  of  Go<l 
against  those  which  do  such  thiiigi,  or  have  pleosurc  in  them  that 
do  them.'  Hut  with  this  there  is  a  perpetual  raising-  before 
the  converts'  evrs  a  glorious  stindnrd  of  rcgeiiemte  huinanitv. 
Baptism  ItacI  traiisfrrrrd  them  into  a  kingtiom  of  light  Christ 
himself  and  his  blessed  Spirit  were  within  them.  The  Heavenly 
Kinjcdom  had  opened  for  them  its  portals.  Old  things  had 
passed  nway,  all  things  had  become  new. 

Cungregatioiialism  camiot  use  such  language.  It  knows  no- 
thing of  the  Sacramental  system  of  the  Early  Church,  In 
Hawaii  too  it  has  of  late,  in  confronting  Komanism,  he<m  ilriven 
farther  from  tlinse  pM-uliar  characteristics  of  the  AjKistolir  n^'. 
It  remains  to  be  sct-n  how  far  our  own  branch  of  tlie  Cliurch 
may  l>e  able  to  supply  these  deficiencies,  and  build  up  in  all  its 
perfpctness  and  beauty  the  Christian  edifice.  It  is  with  many 
ailvanlagcs  tliut  it  undertakes  the  work.  Knmanism  is  the  object 
of  wii!i*-5pread  hatred  in  (lipse  islands.  Here,  as  elsewhem, 
it  has  in<»st  liangpnmKly  s<iug-ht  to  transfer  the  ancient  jKipulnr 
feeling  in  favour  of  idolatry  to  its  own  use  of  images;  and  by 
this,  and  other  like  courses  of  action,  has  brought  its  o^vn  re- 
ligious teaching  into  contempt.  *  Their  worsbi]),'  said  Kanlmn- 
anu,  'is  likR  that  we  have  forsaken.'  *  This  is  the  kind  of  gt»d 
We  always  had  liefon^  viv  heard  of  the  trui?  God,  1  will  nut  turn 
to  tiial,'*  said  anothrr  on  IxMng  shown  by  die  priest  a  bronxc 
crucifix  worn  about  his  neck.  It  is  moreover  identified  in  tbe 
jiopular  mind  with  French  arms  and  French  deigns;  and  vS 
thcst*  there  is  in  the  islands  a  very  li%'ely  susjiicion.  In  spite, 
therefore,  of  Uie  boasts  of  the  Roman  Catholics  as  to  tbe  number  uf 
their  converts,  and  in  spite  of  the  real  alfet^'tion  doubtless  borne  to 
them  by.  those  whom  tliey  have  won,  we  do  not  fear  any  really 
powerful  opposition  from  that  quarter.  Happily  loo,  owing  to 
tlie  resistance  of  the  Government  and  utiier  causes,  no  Roman 
C^tluilic  diocese  has  l>ren  formed  in  Hawaii ;  s<i  tliat,  in  founding 
tlie  hcr  of  Honolulu,  we  ciinniit  be  chargtK)  with  intruding  OUT 
bishop  into  the  field  of  anotlier. 

Meanwhile  the  welcome  fmm  many  will  be  wann.     The  ice 


I 


S8S 


The  Havcciicn  IsUmth, 


(>r  Honolulu,  as  many  uf  uur  readers  nu  doubt  arc  awu'c,  has  been 
fuundcd  on  ihr  direct  application  to  our  Queen  ami  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  of  the  King' himself.  He  is,  wc  have  reason  ti) 
fbelieve,  one  of  the  jn(*st  remarkable  men  of  theday.    The  heir  of  a 
mce  of  alxsoltile  rulers,  whirst;  word  was  law',  and  who  possessed 
the  unrestricted  power  of  life  and  death,  he  has  gladly  coK)peratcd 
in  givinfj  to  his  coiuitry  a  free  constitution,  and  in  ffoverninp'  it 
arcfirding  to  the  laws.     Of  an  enlightened  intelligence,  familiar 
with  all  the  literature  of  Europe,  an  adejit  in  all  the  mysteries 
:0f  international  taw,  and  in  manners  and  all  bodily  exercises  a 
.perfect  English  gentleman,   if  any   ruler- could  add  strength  to 
I  »nch  a  mission  as  that  which  now  leaves  our  shores,  surely  he 
Would   be  the  one.      May  our  ardent  wishes  for  the  futiu-e  be  ful- 
filled through  the  wisdom  and  zeal  of  him  whom  our  Archbishop 
and   his  assistant  suffragans  are  sending  out  on  this  high  enter- 
prise ;  and  may  the  time  come  when  the  Melancsian  band  which, 
imder  IJishop  I'atteson,  is  steering  northward  from  New  Zealand, 
•  may  meet  the  southward  progress  of  the  Hawaiian  Church,  and 
all  the  rescued  islands  lilt  up  with  grateful  accord  their  hands  of 
tiiaukfulnoss  to  Ciod  ! 


Art.  VUl. — I.  Bicentenary  of  the  lhiriholomewEifr:t7neiit  in  186i?. 

jS(.  James's  Hall  Atldrctses,  bv  Hev.  Robert  \''aughan,  D.IX, 

Rev,  John  Stoughton,  Alfred  Rookcr,  Es({.,  Rev.  J.  Edmond, 

D.n.,  and  Rev.  J.  Spcnce,  D.D.     London,  1862. 
2.   Thv  Bicentenary^  the  Liberation  Soeieiy,  and  to  what  do  it* 

Frinviplea  taul'f     A   Lecture.       Bv  the  Rev,   J.   B.    ClifTurd. 

L4indon,  1«(>2. 
8.  Facts  and  Fictions  of  the  Biceittenan/.     A  Sketch  from  1640  to 

1U62.     Ry  the  R.-v.*T.  Lathbury.     London,  1862. 
'1.      lltnv  did  ihetj  ijet  thcref  ur,  the  Nouciutformint  Afinistcrs  of 

11)112.      By  the  Rev.  J.  Venaliles.      London,  18112. 
h.  The  Bicentenary  Commenturatioii  (i/'l<;62.      A  Lecture.     By 

tlie  Rev.  J.  Bardsley.    Cambridge,  1862. 

6.  A  litiij  of  Lighi  cast  upon  St.  Bartholomew's  Dot/,  16G2. 
Lrjndon,  18(12. 

7.  Broeeediiu/r,  princifkifli/  in  the  Countif  if  Kent,  in  coimection 
itith  the  'Barliuaimt  culled  in  1G40.'  fCditrd  by  the  Rev. 
L.  B.  Larking.     Camden  ^<k  iety.     London,  1862. 

fj^HE  jirojccted  commemoration  of  the  I'uritan  partisans  who 

JL       ]»aid   the   pennltv  of  defeat  by  lasing  their  spoil  just  two 

huudn*d    vears  ago,    is  a  very  natitml  wca{M>ii  lor   Dissenters  to 

resort  to  in  the  circumstances  in  which  they  And  themselves  at 

the 


The  Bieenhnary. 


237 


the  prcsriit  moiiK'nt.  Tlicir  causp  is  not  pmsjurriiig  «>  much  as 
it  has  prtnperetl  recently ;  anil  the  cntliusiasm  of  sDmr  of  tlicir 
■ilheronts  is  bt>|;innin^  to  wax  faint.  It  is  very  !tit(>lli|;ililr  tlint 
ihcv  should  grasp  nt  evcrv  Available  means  for  rekiiulliit);  thi* 
firp  whic'li  tlu'v  fear  is  dyiiiE"  away.  A  recent  example  bns 
shown  the  worKI  thai  S4im(*  kind  of  cnnunizalion  is  tlic  nntumi 
resource  of  a  religious  community  iii  distress.  There  is  a  »tr(mj[ 
difference,  it  is  true,  between  the  nature  of  the  afllictiiins  uiidci- 
which  the  Romanists  arul  the  Di&senters  severally  Inlioiir.  The 
Pope  is  in  trouble  because  he  has  lost  the  grcalcr  part  of  what 
he  posscsned.  nml  is  in  a  fair  way  to  lose  the  rest.  The  Lil>crft- 
tioti  SM-iety  have  only  to  deplore  tluit  they  have  not  iis  •nniiX  » 
chalice  n«t  they  enjoyed  a  short  time  n^  of  appropriatiug  the 
p(>ssessi<rns  of  otliers.  Both  have  sought  a  refuge  from  their 
present  troubles  in  contemplating  the  heroism  of  the  past ;  and 
in  this  point  of  view,  taking  quality  ami  quantity  together  into 
consideration,  lioth  stnnd  on  a  tolerably  equal  f«>oting.  The  Pope 
canonizes  mnrtvrs  who  preferred  to  die  by  horrible  tortures  rather 
tlian  renoiuice  the  faith  of  Christ ;  but  he  can  only  produce 
twenty-seven  of  tJiem.  The  Libenttion  StK-iety  canonizes  martyrs 
who  preferred  to  abandon  what  they  had  wrongfully  acquired 
rather  tlian  renounce  the  i^cottish  Covenant ;  but  then  it  pro- 
fesses to  pnKlui^'  two  thousand  of  them.  That  a  certain  suspicion 
of  fable  attaches  to  the  rhnmicle  of  MifTering  is  equally  true  in 
4>ither  instimre.  In  Inith  cases,  too,  tlie  useful  and  the  sweet  are 
mingled  ;  and  a  sagacious  forethought  for  practic.il  needs  a<Iorns 
and  tempers  the  self-abandonment  of  religious  veneration.  The 
commemoration  of  botii  sets  of  saints  is  intended  not  only  to 
edify  the  consc'iences  but  to  stimulate  the  political  enthusiasm  of 
the  faithful.  RnprisaLs  upon  the  uiibrliever,  as  w<>l[  as  ameiiiliiient 
«>f  life,  are  aminig  tlie  results  which  in  both  ciUics  the  religious 
ceremonial  is  planned  to  bring  about.  It  is  chiefly  in  its  prac- 
tical rather  than  its  sentiment-il  aspect  that  we  anr  coucemed  to 
outice  the  commemoration  that  is  to  t.ike  placf  next  August. 
If  it  wcrn  merely  an  outlmrst  of  religious  zeal  which  had  srlrcteil 
a  false  view  of  history  as  the  choiiuet  Ibr  its  expression,  it  would 
be  no  function  of  ours  to  dispel  the  error.  We  have  no  particular 
taste  for  iconoctasm  ;  and  if  then'  Ik*  any  whose  religious  sensibi- 
lities arc  involved  in  a  veneration  for  the  sectaries  of  the  Orcnt 
HelxdlioH,  we  have  no  desire  to  imptmch  their  sanctity.  It  would 
not  he  the  first  time  in  the  historv  of  hagiologv  that  |Mirty  leaders 
have  been  rewarded  for  their  sen*ices  by  a  promotion  to  the 
Calendar.  But  the  literature  which  has  already  been  publishctl 
upon  this  subject  <m  the  Dissenting  side  reveals  that  this  com- 
memoration of  the  sulli-rings  of  these  holy  men  is  eonnerted  with 
aims  and  aspirations  of  it  less  purely  spiritual  character.      They 


I 


aro  to  fonn  the  basis  of  nn  argumeat  by  whiclt  the  wickedness 
of  Kstaktiahed  Churches  in  ^neral  and  the  English  Establish* 
ment  iu  particular  is  to  be  cnl'orccd.  Under  these  circiunstauccs 
we  may  be  excused  for  devoting  a  few  (nges  uf  inquiry  to  the 
rlnims  for  canon ixation  which  have  been  thrust  upon  us  fn)m  a 
quarter  !io  unes.j>ect»l,  and  also  to  the  abundant  anathcinits  which 
have  biren  beistuwetl  u[ion  the  eivil  and  ecclesiastical  rulers  of 
that  day  for  the  policy  they  pursued. 

We  have  no  intention  of  den}4ng  all  merit  to  the  ejected  of  16G0 
and  16ti2.  Some,  like  Baxter,  were  men  of  distinguished  piety  ; 
and  for  the  remoindcr  it  may  be  fairly  arguwl  thai  it  is  always 
a  iileriturlous  thing  to  suffer  any  loss,  whether  groat  or  small, 
ratltrr  t)iun  renounce  in  words  the  genuine  convictions  of  tho 
soul.  Dut  it  is  a  kind  of  m«rit  which,  liappily  for  mankind,  is 
not  so  rare  that  it  calls  for  a  Bicentenary  commemoration.  It  lias 
plentifatly  adorned  every  age  in  which  religious  controversies 
have  arisen  ;  and  our  own  epoch,  though  commonly  accused  of  an 
undue  tendency  to  compromise  belief,  has  witnessed  examples  of  it 
in  great  abundance.  The  officers  in  the  army  might  as  well 
have  helil  a  Bicentenary  to  commcmoratu  the  fact  that  Crumwcirs 
soldiers  did  not  run  away  at  the  battle  of  Worcester.  It  is  per- 
fectly true  that  the  Puritan  ministers,  like  the  Puritan  soldiers, 
stood  manfully  to  their  colours  ;  but  the  same  has  been  done  hy 
thousands  of  others  before  and  since,  who  have  been  thought  to 
need  no  s|>ceial  commemoration.  They  fulfdh-il  the  primary 
duty  of  their  ptxifes&ion,  the  betrayal  of  which  would  have  braudnl 
them  with  infamy — but  they  did  no  more. 

It  cannot,  tlicrelbre,  be  mere  admiration  for  a  sacrifice  of  no 
uncommon  kind  dmt  is  to  unite  all  the  Dissenting  congregations 
in  one  simultaneous  expression  of  feeling  on  the  24th  of  August 
next.  It  is  anotlier  passion,  more  easily  sustained,  that  is  ti>  Iw 
fed  bv  a  contemplation  of  the  events  of  ltiC2.  It  is  the  alleged 
wrong,  and  not  tne  Tirtae,  which  it  is  intt;n(ie<i  to  commemomte: 
it  is  resentment,  and  not  veneration,  which  that  commemorntiun 
is  intended  to  keep  alive.  But  is  the  resentment  better  juitified 
than  tlic  veneration  ?  It  is  not  sufficient  to  say  tliat  thcv  were 
turned  out  of  their  livings.  Before  that  fact  amuses  our  indig- 
nation, we  must  bo  satisfied  that  tbey  had  any  right  to  hold 
them.  Before  we  commemorate  the  great  wrong  they  suflen-d  in 
being  ejcrted  from  their  parsonages,  it  is  material  to  inquire  how 
they  got  into  them.  It  is  obvious  that  there  moy  be  cases  in  which 
(he  misfortune  nf  being  rompellcd  to  surrender  property  mav  not 
necessarily  command  our  sym^Hithics.  If  a  pickpocket  has  jkm- 
MMcd  himself  of  your  handkcrrJiief,  ami  yields  it  up  to  you  again 
under  the  gentle  pressure  of  the  police,  his  most  admiring  and 
enthusiastic  friend  would   not    think  it  necessary  to  preach   a 

sermon 


I 
I 


77f<"  Bimitennrt/. 


239 


wrmon  in  his  honour,  upon  the  next  annivpnarj^  of  the  event 
Nor  will  the  transaction  be  ennobled,  if  such  vicissitudes  of 
possession  should  be  the  restilt  of  political  disturbance.  Few 
people  would  be  inclinrd  Ut  express  any  keen  sympathy  for  the 
Kapoleonir  marshnls  when  they  were  nuslrd  of  the  dotitions  in 
foreign  cnnntricB  with  which  their  master  h:id  cheaply  paid  thera. 
Nor,  if  a  like  misfortune  should  befall  the  Northerners  who  have 
quartered  themselves  in  Southern  countrj-houses,  or  the  Taepingi 
who  have  housed  themselves  in  Ning-|>o,  is  it  probable  that  any 
Bicentenary  will,  at  any  future  jicriipd,  commemorate  their  suf- 
ferings, Tlif  world,  in  slwrt^  has  hithrrto  perversely  refuseil  to 
•gard  the  eiiforcetl  restitution  of  Elulen  goods  as  a  claim  to  the 
lunours  of  either  political  or  religious  martyrdom. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  a  different  scale  of  mea- 
furement  is  to  be  adoptetl  for  the  benefit  of  the  religious 
belligerents  nf  1640,  who  wcrre  *  hoist  with  their  own  petard* 
in  tht*  year  1(562.  Their  title  to  the  iH'iiefices  of  which  they 
drew  tlie  icveiiucs  was  precisely  the  same  as  Afurat's  title 
to  till!  Kii^rdom  of  Naples,  or  Jerome's  title  to  thtr  Kingdom 
of  Westphalia.  They  had  risen  by  the  sword,  and  by  tlie 
swoni  they  fell.  They  made  nn  organised  attack  upon  the 
Church  of  Kngland,  in  which,  at  first,  tliey  were  brilliantly 
successful.  Though  the  whole  of  the  Eieaitive  power  was 
^rown  into  the  scale  aj^ainst  them,  they  ftucci^tMlni  In  subverting 
the  Church  and  Throne  together,  and  made  themselves  masters 
of  the  power  and  revenues  of  both.  The  victories  gained  were 
vigorously  followed  up.  It  was  against  Episcopacy  they  had 
made  war,  and  they  hunted  it  down  with  unrelenting  hatred. 
The  Archbishop  to  whom  they  were  sperially  npiHispfl  expiated 
upon  the  scalTold  the  crime  of  liaviufj  prov<il(cd  their  enmity. 
The  cIiTgy  were  the  special  object  of  their  aiiiintisity.  Sij  early 
as  1P40,  a  Committee  was  appointed  fur  the  purpose  of  ejecting 
'scandalous'  Ministers;  an'l  as  years  went  on,  its  area  of  opo- 
ntions  was  widened  till  it  extended  throughemt  the  country. 
The  Head  Committees  sat  in  London;  and  affiliated  Committees 
nrm^l  with  absolute  uUthority  were  established  In  mi>sl  of  tlte 
couniifs  of  ICnpIand  and  Wales.  They  were  formetl  of  tlur  most 
desperate  fanatics  that  could  be  got  together,  whatever  their 
prcvitjus  character  or  rank  in  life  might  have  been.  Their  pro- 
ceedings were  rnn'ied  on  in  the  style  which  gcncniny  marks 
tribnimis  that  have  beeu  instituted  to  carry  out  the  poHtlral 
objects  iif  a  despotic  executive.  Their  business  was  to  dismiss 
ihr  Ministers  who  were  attached  to  the  Church  and  Monarchy; 
anil  tliey  did  their  work  with  diligence  and  effect.  Emissaries 
Were  sent  out  to  collect  accusations,  and  it  was  seldom  thnt  some 
mau    was   nut    to  be  found  ti.>  fatlier  them.      Men    ol*  tlw  'vanTA 


M 


240  TliA  BicmtenfTiy. 

duiracter,  living:  by  the  most  infamous  mcans^  were  eagerly 
wclcomcU  by  tUc  Committees,  if  they  brought  with  them  an 
accusiitioT).  No  cliar^e  nj^niiist  the  parson  was  ton  extreme  to 
be  received  as  probable,  and  no  tpstimooy  was  too  vile  W) 
establish  it  as  pnned.  The  forms  (ibsrnr-rcl  by  tlie  ('nmmittees 
were  diiittng'uishod  h}'  that  simplicity  and  rapidity  which  usually 
characterises  revolutionary  tribunals.  '  Divers  were  never  called 
to  answer,'  say  the  Clergy  in  the  Petition  addressed  by  some 
thousari<ls  of  them  to  Sir  Tlionins  Kiirfax  :  '  srarre  one  bad  any 
articles  proved  on  tiatli  or  other  h-gid  pnicess,  and  some  were  put 
out  on  private  information  Riven  to  Mr.  White,  the  chairman.' 
Under  circumstances  so  favourable,  it  must  be  recorded  to  the 
credit  of  their  moileration  that  they  did  not  in  general  prove 
lieavier  charges  than  those  of  dnmkruness  am!  immoralit}'. 
Hut  tliest'  were  niongh  fur  the  ubjeii  thc-v  had  in  view  ;  they 
suffti-i'd  t[i  furnish  aH  much  of  pnrlext  as  was  rcquimi  for  the 
M-f^uestratioiis  which  the  Puritans  deslreil  to  pionouucn*.  'I*hev 
were  ample  fur  this  purpose,  and  they  were  worth  very  little  (or 
any  other.  Until  this  year  we  should  mit  have  believed  that 
there  ircistecl  critics  blind  enaug'h,  or  shameh'ss  enough,  to 
blacken,  upon  the  stren^tli  of  such  trials  as  thrae,  iJip  jnemnry  of 
the  victims  it{  the  Puritan  Persecution.  It  i^  evident,  however, 
that  an  historical  fact  more  or  less  is  not  to  he  allnweil  to  dim 
the  full  glory  of  the  approaching  Bicentenary.  The  Dissenting 
advocates  actually  speak  of  the  unhappy  h)yalists,  whose  ill  fate 
it  was  to  lall  into  the  hnmU  of  these?  Plundering  Committees,  as 
men  '  ci)nvi4-tc(l  nf  luiitmnditv.'  One  would  have  lliought  tbnt 
the  world  was  fauiiliar  enough  by  this  time  with  that  stalest 
device  of  tyranny— to  mask,  under  the  forms  of  a  sham  triiJ,  the 
execution  of  its  absolute  decrees,  lleforc  partisan  jud^s,  se- 
lected without  the  slightest  guanmtee  of  their  independence  or 
impartiality,  and  apjiointL'd  to  carry  out  the  wishtrs  of  the  victors 
ill  a  civil  contest,  convictions  in-e  matters  of  course.  !t  is  only 
lately  that  diwjienite  historians  have  been  bohl  enough  to  claim 
them  either  as  a  proof  of  die  victim's  ^ilt  or  a  palliation  of  the 
tyrant's  cruelty.  We  believe  tliere  are  stern  republicans  who 
still  believe  that  Marie  Antoinette  was  guilty  of  the  crimes  of 
which  she  was  convicted  by  the  Revolutionary  Tribmial.  M, 
Louis  Illanc  is  certainly  prepared  to  maintain  the  guilt  of  other 
suflercrs  before  that  court,  on  the  }j;round  of  the  remarkably  siru- 
Itniental  and  tender  character  o{  the  jurors,  who  often  wept 
when  pronouncing  the  fatal  vi-nlict.  Mr.  Fniuile,  we  believe,  is 
almost  the  only  Kiiglish  historian  who  has  ()isj)tayc<l  t}ic  same 
childlike  confidence  in  tlie  dceisions  of  tril)unals  pvonoiuirod 
directly  under  the  cvfr  of  a  despotic  authority.  It  is  idle  to 
attempt  t»  reason  against  such  a  condition  of  mind.     No  argu- 

ineot 


I 


I 


J 


n^  Bieentenarif. 

mrnt  that  cuuUI  bu  eoiistructnl  wtiuld    be  more  ainvincing  than 
that  w}iirli  Mis  on  llif  surfsii;  uf  the  fsL-ls. 

Ductriiml  char<jes,  however,  were  tjie  most  numertius.  Tliov 
were  often  true;  and  where  they  were  not,  ctmid  peiipraJIr  he 
implied  from  s  rery  slight  exaggeration  of  the  actual  fuets. 
Very  mfuJcrate  CUur<,*hui»nshi|)  was  »ut)icicnt  to  prove  rank] 
PdjHTy  when  interpreted  by  PuritJtii  witnesses  mid  jwlges.  Thm 
Very  mildest  expression  of  n  reverenee  for  forms,  or  a  value  for' 
tlie  decencies  of  woi:ihi]>,  w;ls  sutHcient  to  brin^  down  tbii>  fatiil 
charge  upon  a  clergyman's  head.  Dr.  Walker  has  pre^er^ed  a 
curious  list  of  the  proofs  which  were  accepted  as  sutlicteut  evi- 
dence of  PopcF)-.  Tbey  leave  in  the  shade  even  ih«we  whiirh 
a  few  vears  ago  we  were  accustomed  frequently  to  hear.  I^t 
uiv  tAste  for  the  more  pronounced  ritual  which  the  Laudiao., 
biiiliopi  encouraged  should  have  been  branded  with  this  rliargrr' 
IS  intelligible  enough.  It  was  to  be  exjierted  that  a  clergyman 
tho  Ivjwed  at  the  name  of  Jesus,  or  who  worked  I  H  &1  upon  bis 
■dtar-eloth,  should  not  be  tolernled.  But  most  of  the  accuiMtions 
are  of  a  far  less  hein<ias  character.  Some  were  corulemiiet)  fur 
dropping  wonis  onlemptuous  of  the  Parliament;  others  for 
exprtrssing  an  uJmimcion  uf  the  lliahops;  other»  for  refu&ing  to 
keep  the  fasts  proclaimed  by  the  House  of  Commons.  One  man 
was  dispossessed  for  refusing  to  read  the  Burial  Service  over  an 
unbapltMrd  child ;  another  was  nccusefl  of  '  reproaching  a  fellow 
for  putting  his  hat  on  in  rhun^b  ;*  anct  a  tliird  for  saving  that 
*  he  hail  rather  hear  a  pair  of  organs  than  the  singing  of  Mopkins'j 
Psalm-t,  \vhirh  ho  called  Hopkini^'  jiggs.'  Tlien>  is  a  story- 
doubtful  authenticity — tliat  the  Kcv.  L.  Plavters,  of  Ugsball  in 
Suflblk,  was  dispossessed  for  'eating  custard  in  a  scaoilaloua 
manner.'  There  is  an  interesting  selection  from  these  lUiciiments 
in  a  volume,  which  we  liave  placed  at  the  head  of  this  article, 
consisting  of  petitions  against  miuistcrs,  which  were  addressed 
to  the  Long  Parliament,  at  its  opening,  by  a  certain  number  of 
parishes  in  die  county  of  Kent,  lliere  is  u  ronsiderabic  divcrsitv 
in  the  charges  whii-h  an?  made;  but  there  are  two  whi<'h  appear 
with  almost  onvarying  regularity.  The  pirishL-s  nearly  alwavs 
complained  tliat  their  pastor  railed  in  the  altar  in  his  rhun-h,  aiKl 
that  lie  exacted  too  much  tithe  from  his  flock^-curiouslv  symbol- 
ising the  revolutionary  and  Uie  ultra- Protestant  tendencies  which 
fonnetl  the  <louble  gnmnd  of  the  rebellion.*  Oec-asinnallv^the 
proceedings  appcnr  to  have  been  set  on  foot  liv  the  tarmei-s  in 
nnler  tu  obtiUii  aa  cscune  for  nut  paving  tjlhe  while  it  was 
jiemling.t  Sometimes  tlie  complaint  was,  that  the  ie<'&  exacted  at 
marriages  were  too  high;  aometimt'A  it  assumed  tlie  Strang* r 
form  that  sermons  were  preoclivd  Um  seldom.     The  petition  from 


•  *  Proc<«lings.' ftc.  pp.  IW.  13(;.  159.  196.  Sl)i,  ilB. 
Vol.  \X%—No.  aat.  R 


t  \b"wl...vA^:.. 


Sevenoaka  remarkalil^r  Uidicates  tliu  general  feeling  vrkicli  pre- 
vaile<l,    even    in    Xixe    rettiuteat  villages,    that   Hie    |>ar»oils    wer< 
down,  aiiU  might  be  deidt  with  at  the  tliscrctiun  of  their  oncmit*; 
The    ncrusntion   on    rttiirli   thr    intmltitAiits    pniy   tlir    Hou&o 
C^iiimiins  t<)  take  incusurcs  against   tlirir  viear  iii,  that  lit!  has 
well  III!  his  gU'lio  which  he  keejMi  fur  his  umii  use,  aiHl  rofuscs 
tlirow  upeii  to  the  jiari^h.*     In  auather  case  the  pronfit  liave  be<1 
prescr\ed  uf  the  discreditable  ueans  by  which,  according  to 
testimony  of  so  many  authorities,  tlie  petitions  were  urdlunriLj 
gilt  up.      Side  liY  siile  with   tlic  petition   from  Brcdburst  itgaint 
their  parsttii,  Sir  PUlwaid   Dering  upfK-ars  tu  liuve  ducketti-d  and 
kept  ihu  protest  uf  a  number  of  the  siguaturles  whuw;  siguaturu*^ 
had   l>een  procured   by  improper  means,  j     In  one  paper  is  th^^| 
protest  of  a  villager,  that  he  was  inveigled  into  signing  when  ke^ 
was  drunk.     In  another,  a  hdxmrer  complain!]  tbnt  he  was  forced 
into  tfiginng  bv  a  tUn»t  of  losing  his  work  ou  the  farms  of  a 
Puritan  freehnuler;  and  in  another  a  number  of  the  parishiouer!* 
write  to  declare  that   the  charges  are  mIioHv  witliout  foundation. 
Of  course  these  charges  were  established  with  as  much   facility, 
and  despacchcd  with  as  much  rapidity,  as  those  which  alleged 
drunkenness  and  immorality.     Dr.  Aleric  Casauhon  is  a  remark- 
able iniiUiiicn  uf  huw  little  tlie  most  honoured  nameor  the  deejKat 
erudition  availed  to   clear  a  jmrson  from  absurd  charges,  or  to 
itave  him    fium   a  cruel  punishment.      He  was  accusetl  of  bowii 
to  tlie  altar,  of  railing  it  in,  and  of  raising  the  tithe-charges  to 
higlier  sum  than  had   been  usual  un<ler  liis  pmlcccssor.  { 
the  first  charge   he  replies,    that   he  had   mcrelv  observed 
customs    which    were   prevalent    in   the  cathedral   to  which  he' 
beloiigeil.     The  second  charge  he  denied  ;  and,  in  answer  to  the 
tliii'd,  he  pointed  out  ttiat  tithen  have,  Ijy  tlte  laws  of  arithmetic 
a  natural  tendency  to  jncroasie  when  the  gross  value  of  wluih  thr 
am  the  tidies  has  increased.     Nevcrihelcaa  he  was  upon  the 
charges  disjiosscssed,  imprisoned,  and  fineil  by  the  fanatic  Cml 
miltes  of  the  Commons,  and   compelled  tu  live  as  best  he  coul 
upon  tlie  sate  of  a  valuable  library  which  he  hml  colIei'teiI.§     Whr 
the  liestoration   came,  ho  re-entered  upim  his  living;  and 
intruder  wliom  he  turned  out  was  among  those  whose  sufierin^ 
were  proclaimed  at  the  time  as  such  a  grievous  persecutioa, 
whose  wrongs   the  present  generation  is  called  upon  to  rcacal 
Tlie  certain  result  of  these  summary  proceedings  before  theCom^ 
mitt«es   was  sii  well  known,  that  sometimes   the  mere  throat  of 
them  was  sufficient  to  dispossess   an  obnoxious  clergyman  with- 
out more  ado  :— 

'  The  author  of  Pemrmiin  Vndcrimn,  who  wiw  a  sad  apectator  of 
theao  miaerieg  of  the  clergy,  hath  left  tu  a  rery  pregnant  testimoxiy 


r  [» 
'ing 

i 


*  •  Pruomdtngs,*  &c..  p.  194. 
X  WnA^  p.  IM. 


t  lbi<I.,  p.  160. 
S  Walker.  U.  0. 


Tfie  Bicnitfum/. 


243 


this  purpose :  *-  Two  or  thtae  RoformeK  in  a  porisli  hsoaUjt  domanclod 
nn  anialler  matttir  iif  thnir  I'anum  tbaii  ttiat  bu  tihoald  rwign  up  bis 
whole  livelihood  at  odco,  viz.,  biti  living :  othcrwiBe  th^y  wonlil 
tbrtiatea  to  fotcli  him  D})  to  tliu  rorliaiiieiit ;  wbicb  tUrcottf  aa  far  pru- 
Tiilcd  with  mauy  iif  liluiiiL'h'.HH  lives  and  convi-rsiitiuii,  that  to  avoid 
tb>e  tronble  tuid  chargcB,  and  tho  infinite  scorn  and  vexation  at  Com- 
uittoes,  aiid  the  Hhanie,  nit  it  wan  then  ocoountod,  of  being  runkiHl 
aroongst  tho  KcandotouB  niin)fit«>ni,  ^vo  np  thoir  chnrvbcs,  vir..,  Mr. 
Mason,  Dr.  Howol,  Mr.  War»l,  I>r.  Pierce,  Dr.  Hill,  Mr.  Paget,  Mr. 
Hunsloff,  and  all  nthurK  Bought  tt>  change  their  livings  for  Bunio  nnru 
qniut  phu!(.-ii ;  and  1  Imvu  hoard  Mome  of  tlicHo  maliciouK  T^cmdnnerg 
not  osbiuncil  openly,  in  the  &ce  of  a  Oommittec,  to  profcHfl.  and  ^vithont 
control,  that  tJtcy  would  never  give  over  vexing  their  Parmm  till  they 
hod  worried  biiu  out  of  hia  living ;  and  ko  maeh  have  thtttu  faetiuuH 
Hum  prevailed,  that  Bcarcc  any  Parsons  or  Vioars  ore  loft  in  thiit  city 
unseqnestercd. '  And  again  :  "  So  the  cose  etandoth  \vith  the  divinuA 
of  England :  let  any  ignorant  hearer  (suppose  sn  apprentice  hoy—  I 
havu  AnoiTN  it)  accTiae  any  clergyioan  (the  greatest  Doctor  of  Divinity) 
of  preaching  dootrines  wliich  tlio  hoy  thinks  an:  false  or  PopiHh  doc- 
trmos— to  the  House  of  ConinionB  or  the  Committee  shall  the  divine 
bo  nut  for  perhaps  by  a  pnreevfuit :  jastifie  his  doctrine  he  mnst  not, 
though  novar  no  tme ;  tho  U oiihc  mippuHeth  it  to  ho  fahm,  erroiieoiiii, 
Popish,  or  Bc-andaloiis,  becAime  corajilainod  of.  Auawor  hemiiM— did 
be  preach  it,  Aye  or  No  f  Whether  it  bo  true  or  false  they  mil  not 
dispnte;  hit  or  niifn^,  they  will  vote,  and  that's  enough  to  make  ony 
doctrine  true  or  false,  Popish  or  seaadAlous,  and  thereby  to  impow  on 
the  person  of  Christ's  miuistor  and  to  seize  on  his  oetatc  :  to  oust  him 
of  uU  his  fmehuld  and  Kvelihood,  and  to  spoil  him  of  his  goodii."  * 
It  was  well  known  that  two  or  three  men  (though  the  very  dregs  of  ^ 
tho  people)  pctitionii^  against  the  heterodox  miuistcrs,  have,  in  tho 
jiulgmont  ana  acceptance  of  a  faction  in  the  House  of  Oommona, 
ont-poised  the  rest  of  the  parish,  thoogh  infinitely  hoyond  them,  as  in 
nnmbors  so  in  (juality;  their  testimony  being  rejected  with  ranch 
acrimony,  luid  nlmriiueHB.  whoro  the  others'  lil>ul«  huvu  gi-u'cml  credit 
and  repiitotion  with  them  :  of  which  ho  immndiatflly  suhjoinH  a  preg- 
nant instance  in  tho  case  of  Mr.  L'bcstliug,  of  tit.  Mathews,  il'iidny 
street,  who  was  jmtitioued  against  by  souio  schisuuitics,  "  in  tliu  uoiuu 
of  the  whole  parish."  though  threo  parte  of  four  prote«tud  against  it 
imdcr  their  hands.' t 

But  in  1643  a  simpler,  sharper,  speedier  instrument  was  de- 
vised for  ejecting  the  obnoxious  clergy.  The  Inking  uf  ihi? 
Covenant  was  made  compulsorv.  As  this  eelebrali^d  document 
was  in  terms  directed  against  the  nxisting  con&litution  of  the 
Church  of  Kngland,  it  made  a  rapid  and  cfTcctive  I'learnncc.  Id 
some  distant  parts  of  the  countrv,  where  tlie  Kovalist  cause  for  a. 
long  time  maintaiiKd  itself,  the  persecutors  were  for  many  yceors 


*  rtmotOio  Undtcma,  P.  22,  Jp.  Wiiktr,  u  79. 
t  Mtrt.  Rat.  1»1.  Ap.  Wathr,  U  79. 

r2 


niwbl 


^^ 


244  TVw  Binentenartf. 

luiable  to  apply  Uie  new  test ;  but  in  most  places  it  wrs  racrri- 
lenly  eniortcd. 

The  runsciiueiiccs  of  tliis  pmceutitm  aio  inadequately  ex- 
pressed by  the  fact  that  fmin  six  to  w\k\i  thousand  rler|;ymeii, 
thrir  wivi's  aud  fainiltes  lost  tliuir  llvi-lihood.  They  were  gene- 
rally turned  out  under  cirrumstances  of  great  barbarity,  and 
SDiiu-tiiiieii  ol'  atrocious  violence.  The  middle  of  tlie  ni^ht  was 
ol'tcn  chosen  lor  the  execution  of  the  sentence ;  ami  no  circum- 
stances of  sickness  ur  infirmity,  however  piteoua,  availed  to  stay 
iho  Course  of  the  rude  soldiery  who  were  charged  with  its  exccil* 
tion.  The  pregnant,  the  newly-delivered,  the  bedridden,  the 
infirm,  were  thrown  out  at  midnii^lit  into  thp  street  or  rond. 
sometimes  witli  the  snow  <m  the  firrtmnd,  and  left  to  lihelter  them- 
selves as  l)est  they  could  under  hwlfjes  or  in  biims,  .in<l  fi'ed 
themselves  on  emb-appleb  4ir  turnip-tops  until  thev  could  itbt'iin 
some  scanty  alms  from  tlie  pity  of  a  roncenled  adhrirent.  Sune- 
times  the  minUlerwas  hurried  ofi'to  the  hiatlisome  prisons  which 
the  Long  Parlian]cnt  hatl  erected  in  hulks  upon  the  river ;  and 
tlie  destitution  oi  the  wives  and  children  was  even  more  hoiielrss 
than  l>rforp,  As  tiini*  went  on  thpir  .sulTering.i  incrcTSMi.  renal 
luws  wi-n>  passird  ])niliiliitin}>',  undiT  sfMore  pcnattipii,  the  trading 
even  in  a  private  room  of  tin;  lorniularies  lu  which  the  clergy 
were  in  conscience  bound.  Ami  that  no  impulimeut  to  tlie 
complete  starvation  of  the  clcrpv  might  be  left,  it  was  ai  last 
made  a  punishable  olfencc  to  employ  any  minister,  who  had 
I»r*?n  dppriveil  of  hi»  living,  in  the  education  of  the  young.  Tin* 
conseiiueners  were  what  might  have  l»ern  ex{>rcted.  T}u>  slri'n^h 
of  tliuusaiids  ga^e  way  under  the  hardships  tu  wliich  ihev  wen* 
exposed.  Hunted  out  of  every  employment  in  which  they  could 
^ct  thrir  living,  coiulemned  to  beg  their  bread  in  a  land  devas- 
tated b>'  civil  wor,  with  the  ban  of  the  rtding  powers  laid 
ti]>nn  tlu-ni,  tlu-  viist  majority  of  tht^m  [M'rished  miserablv.  Out 
of  a  number^  vaiiouslv  eoniputetl  from  six  to  ten  thousand,  who 
were  ejected  during;  the  Commonwealth,  only  six  hundrctl.  livpil 
t*>  claim  tUeir  rights  when  the  King  came  back  in  16tiO.*     Of 

the 

*  I>r.  Vaugtuui'i  wnv  uf  ImDdlttig  these  uu-lnnclioly  figarvs  b  bold  and  iufteoiMix. 

Ue  sppean  to  Xm  whotljr  niiftwnrr  of  the  tendency  of  stamtion  lo  (horien  tiumu  ^m 

liA)  and  arpurt.  from  tbt!  fact  that  o&ly  <a\.*i  sui-riTi'tl  m  ICfio.  that  thenr  ik*49-  ^H 

Miutd  have  bitrn  man}'  luore  in  exiitincx-.     liif>  arffiimi-ui  \i  worth  exlraicliiif; : —  ^H 

*  Hut  ihere  iH  a  briefitr  wej-  of  AMthiif:  tliii  yxAux.     \t  Oiitiu  wrre  in  ihi>  coaditiun  ^H 

tif  M.-uu«ttr«li.-d  clvtyy  lu  1&-I4,  "v  tiiljirancntlf,  tbvn,  acvDnlinit  (<>  th«  lk««  of  ^H 

tmirtalii}.  tliiTv  iituKt  law  bi-irn  .t£l»',  bu<1  niurv.  uf  thus**  men  uhvv  lu  1^60,  n«l  " 

claimini;  la  he  put  Iwck  iitio  ihcir  ltiiiif;$.     All  llist  wort-  w  living  nl  that  tunc*  . 

were  put  bark,  and  Ibu  nhole  imuibrr  that  were  fo  rcklortd  tlid  tiul  appcur  (o  ^m 

liavL*  nitiuitntM  to  tiinrir  ttiau  Miimr  t'lTc  ur  six  hiiudnn].     Tliir  iioiitt.  llierefotv.  IS  ^H 

hiruUtit  \}\  thr  \xuM  cvnuiH  ui'  tvM».     This  U  u  courw  of  iii(|uirr  u  blch  1  Iibtp  ^^ 
wurkud  nnl  for  niytelf.     But  I  woald  not  rest  ali!6«d  with  my  owu  vUlentaiioDfi. 


I 


I  ai*r    ^1 


The  Bicentenary. 


245 


the  few  whw  sunived,  maHv  were  so  crippled  with  the  debts  they 
hatl  coalractcd  durins:  tlu*  tniubirs,  th«t  the  Rcstorntiim  srarrelj 
brought  tliPDi  any  atieviiitioii  nf  tl«?ir  dislivBS. 

It  is  of  uiurse  open  to  the  N'otironforinists  ti)  reply,  tlmt  Uicsc 
sufferings  were  the  unliappv  but  unavoidable  consequences  of 
civil  war.  It  was  imiwssiblc  for  the  Parliament,  who  were  the 
victors  in  Uic  contest,  to  leave  in  jK»ssession  of  the  pulpits  men 
who  were  invetcrnteU"  hostile  to  their  rule.  Such  sufFcrings 
are  no  noreltv ;  but  thev  have  liecn  tlie  lot  of  the  clergy  in 
almost  every  country  in  which  they  have  hjul  the  misfortune  to 
lie  opiwsed  to  the  victorious  party.  To  such  a  view  of  history  . 
tlirrc  IS  nothing  t<i  object.  A  time  of  civil  war  is  a  time  when  ^1 
all  thf!  nrdinnry  obli;;ations  of  political  morality  are  s/imewhat  ^^ 
•tj^inrd.  Things  are  rlone  «-hich  it  is  equally  difficult  to  avoid 
or  to  approve.  All  the  details  of  violence  and  Injustice  are 
covere<I  by  the  one  preat  necessity,  if  sucli  there  «'erc,  to  which 
tlie  original  ap|W'al  to  arms  was  due.  VVc  have  no  objection 
to  this  mmh-  of  reaHonin^,  but  it  must  be  applictl  impartially 
to  IkiiIi  sides.  If  it  <-n%vrs  the  theft,  It  must  also  cover  the 
restitution.  If  it  was  inevitable  that  the  ('hurch  should  lose 
her  revenues  when  she  was  worsted  in  the  civil  war,  it  was 
cfjonlly  inrvitable  that  she  should  take  them  Imck  when  she 
recovered  her  old  p'tsition. 

Hut  it  mu.it  in  fairness  be  said  that  the  Puritan  divines  did 
not  carry  through  the  ejeclnicnt  of  tlielr  oppmrnis  as  a  sad 
nccciHsity  imposed  ii]K»n  tlnrni  by  |Mjlitti-al  coiisidci-ations.  They 
do  not  ap)>ear  to  have  wastt^l  anv  superfluous  commiseration 
upon  the  Prelatists.  Thev  looked  upon  It  as  a  spoiling  of  the 
Kffvptians — a  legitimntc  source  Iwlh  of  plensure  and  profit  per- 
mitt<!il  to  the  jMHiplc  of  Ciod.  Some  instances  from  Walker's 
colU'ctioi)  will  illustrate  tJie  spirit  in  which  many  «if  them  went 
ti*  work,  and  the  claim  which  thev  possessed  b>  the  srmpnthy 
of  others  when  they  fell  into  n  like  trouble  themselves. 

'  About  thu  juar  1G45,  ho  (J.  Oandy)  wok  totally  dispoeaeewd  of 
tJio  living,  nuii  his  &mily  thrown  out  of  the  door,  by  a  party   of 

I  btTw  o1>tshKd  the  ofniiiao  of  («o  of  the  first  sctBarl«c  snd  siatlcUn  id  this 
kmgilom — one  of  tlicm  ought  tu  V,  from  hU  poohina.  Uiv  sevy  first — wkI  this  is 
tlicir  t^laU-nieut: — II'  tbcrr  were  C<>ti<>  men  alivr,  of  24  yean,  of  a^  nml  spwards, 
ill  IG44,  there  ought  to  havi^  Ihtco  9(;^H)  of  tlxwc  int-n  livii>g  ia  IGOU;  and  the 
namber  of  fjet'tt-d  minislem  ai-cordiugly,  l«twoen  ihi*  spring;  of  lOOO  mid  the 
oattiBin  of  lt)''V,  iHight  to  hiiv«  tifirn  Itciwecu  60ih)  auil  fiOuO!  1  du  hnpi',  ibvrc- 
foK,  thKt  ««  slial)  bvu-  DO  morv  nbuut  tlinc  «x)o  fwiMStcr^d  cl«r(r7Tn>fn. 

Wc  hniK-  that  the  next  lime  he  lavvta  hisfrienas  Ifac  Bctuanc*.  he  wtll  tell 
lh«ui  of  Uh-  .iNcgation  which  certain  camempornries  haTe  made,  that  thu  graaivr 
part  of  iho  taiii  fi'KUi  cliTjiviiipn  hiiJ  little  or  uolLing  to  eat  during  the  inlerral  in 
•|UV>tii7ii.  Ferhaps  ihey  will  inforin  him  "hciber  that  circumsuuce  woulii  msfcv 
aay  dUTtireiicc  in  the  calcalaticii  of  ih<^r  prul«hlc  vitality . 

\ssain 


I 


Si6 


The  BicentenaTy. 


LurBowbicK  camo  to  Iu«  lioast-,  nn<l  (Iraggod  liis  wife,  who  Dion  ki^pt 

.poeacaaion  for  bcr  hnRhnnd,  out  by  forco ;  anH  when  she  wwiW  caich 

at  tho  BtftpleB  of  the  door  to  rt«y  ber»elf,  or  rtiv  othi>r  thiiif?,  th^y 

wuuld  barhATously  kut>ck  off  her  hwiilB,  until  nt  lungth  thoy  ftircibly 

throw  her  into  tho  street  with  w^vcral  littlo  chitdron  sho  hiu},  there  to 

.liMg  or  to  etano,  whirb  thoy  wnnM,     There  nro  Komo  cironmRtaaow 

which  mutih  ^mhanco  tho  l>arhsrity  uf  Ihiu  uctiou.     Out)  in,  tiiat  Hra. 

(iandy  was  then  bkt^ly  out  of  childtKd,  and  hnd  the  yottng  child  it 

bi^r  brootit.     AiioOu^r  in,  tliat  the  intriidiir  wur  thoni  hintscilf  in  pOTSOOf 

tuid  a  »)[»)Ctul4)r  of  thm  nhole  tmnstt«tiuii :  his  iiiuuu  vran  JcUufrur  ;  lio 

,  VAS  a  (lormau,  who  had  flud  from  his  own  country  npou  tho  account 

of  n^Iigion  furvonch  [  luiil  rmiiing  to  Esebiir  in  •  vory  poor  conditinn, 

bad  bcvit  rotic-Tcd  by  Mrs.  Qmody'B  father.' 

Mr.  .Ir>lin)^r,  tho  hero  of  this  anecdote,  was  afterwards  one 
of  tin:  St  BarllioloHicw  martyr*.  VVhfii  that  day  arrived,  a 
Hitiidl  [loi'tioii  of  tlie  nieasurf  that  be  hud  iiieteLl  out  to  others 
was  inetfd  oui  to  biiu.  In  the  addresst^'s  ubicb  were  delivered  in 
St.  Jiimc&'ii  Hall  last  March,  there  are  many  tiwcbinfi;  |m88a^eft 
depicting  the  last  hours  spent  by  these  St.  Cartholonicw  martvrs 
in  tbcir  bcnr6cc».  We  arc  told  bow,  on  the  Sunday  before, 
*no  inflammatory  discourses  were  deUvereil,  but  even  those  who 
bwl  been  somewhat  narrow  and  pi-ejudiced  Utfore,  rose  on  the 
orcasion  to  th«^  noblest  heights  of  fwliii^,  and  uttered  sentiments 
of  Cadiolic  chiiril)-,  broad  and  iM-autiful.'  It  is  ijiratifviiig  Iti 
And,  that  even  iit  this  moment  of  tJieir  cation iz^iti on,  we  are 
allowed  to  bcHcrc  that  some  of  them  like  Mr.  Jelinger  may 
have  been  'narrow  and  prejudiced  bclorc.'  It  was  a  narrow- 
nets  and  prejudice  which  was  shared  by  seteral  of  his  brother 
martvTB,  and  bad  the  effect  of  reducing  many  worthy  Church 
people,  who  have  not  been  promoted  to  the  dignity  uf  martyr^ 
to  the  very  extrcmitv  of  want.  It  was  in  the  matter  of  what 
were  called  'the  fifths,'  that  these  small  failinj^  had  tlie  most 
EiTious  resufts.  In  dispossessing^  the  clergy,  the  l^ng  Parliament 
had  cnnctiHl,  tlmt  in  the  case  wliere  the  ejected  clergy  linil  wives 
luid  children,  and  bad  not  be<^n  convicted  of  overt  royalisro, 
they  should  enjov  wtme  allowance  out  of  their  former  incomes, 
not  exceeding  one-fifth,  ilut  what  pro|)ortion  of  the  fifth  should 
be  Allotted  to  them,  and  whether  any  of  it  should  be  paid,  was 
in  practice  left  to  tho  alMolutc  discretion  of  the  Puritan  intruder. 
There  was  a  refined  cruelty  in  leaving  the  clergy  to  the  trndcr 
mercies  of  their  tbeologirsl  antagonists.  Leave  to  lieg  of  ibe 
men  who  bad  tuminl  tbem  out  was  nndiuibtcflly  the  bitterest 
as  well  as  tlu*  srantieiit  form  of  relief  that  could  l>e  devised. 
In  practice,  as  might  be  expected,  it  was  no  relief  at  nil. 
.-\s  it  was  siKrciidlv  provided  that  the  parson  was  iu)t  to  go  oa 
residing    within    nis   own    parish,'  it  was  alwa^'s   a  matter   of 

latxHir 


r 


Tke  Bicentenary.  247 

labour  and  difficulty  even  to  apply  for  the  fifth  ;  and,  as  a  rule,  it 
was  either  roundly  refused,  or  evaded  on  some  transparent 
pretext  One  of  the  favourite  pretences  was  to  assert  that 
the  clergyman  on  whose  behalf  application  was  made  was 
no  longer  living.  At  Westmonton  the  sequestered  clei^yman 
applied  himself  to  Dr.  Elford,  the  intruder,  and  received  the 
usual  answer.  On  his  assuring  his  successor  that  the  clergyman 
in  question  certainly  was  not  dead,  for  that  it  was  he  himself 
who  was  speaking.  Dr.  Elford,  nothing  daunted,  replied  to 
him,  that  even  if  he  was  alive  naturally,  yet  he  was  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  sins.  Many  similar  stories  are  related  by  Walker, 
apparently  upon  contemporary  authority.  At  another  place  a 
Mrs.  Pierce,  the  wife  of  a  sequestrated  clerk,  applied  to  Mr. 
Chishull,  the  intruder,  for  her  fifths,  on  the  ground  that  she  had 
six  small  children.  He  is  said  to  have  replied,  '  that  he  had  a 
pair  of  geldings  in  the  stables  and  a  groom  too,  which  must  be 
maintained,  and  were  more  chargeable  than  all  her  children.' 
At  East  Isly,  Berks,  the  intruder,  a  Mr.  Francis,  being  asked  for 
fifths,  simply  refused.  His  predecessor  being  in  extreme  dis- 
tress, sent  his  little  daughter  to  him  to  beg  again,  '  hoping  her 
innocence  might  move  him.'  But  again  the  application  was 
refused.  Then  the  child  said,  '  But  we  must  all  starve  if  we 
are  not  relieved.'  Mr.  Francis's  answer  was,  '  Starving  is  as 
near  a  way  to  Heaven  as  any  other.'  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  he 
found  it  so  when  the  retribution  of  1662  came  round;  for  both 
he  and  the  hero  of  the  preceding  anecdote  were  St.  Bartholomew 
martyrs,  and  as  such  are  the  present  idols  of  Nonconformist 
adoration.  They  were  among  the  men  who,  on  that  day,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Stoughton,  '  rose  to  the  noblest  heights  of  feeling,  and 
uttered  sentiments  of  Catholic  charity  broad  and  beautiful.'  At 
the  time  when  the  question  of  paying  fifths  to  the  starving 
clei^y  was  before  them,  the  Catholic  charity,  brt^d  and  beau- 
tiful, had  not  been  developed.  It  was  no  doubt  quickened  into 
being  with  marvellous  rapidity  by  a  contemplation  of  the  Act 
of  Uniformity. 

If  these  anecdotes,  which,  together  with  multitudes  of  others  of 
like  character,  have  come  down  to  us,  represent  the  prevalent  tone 
of  conduct  among  the  Puritan  clergy,  they  cannot  be  held  guiltless 
of  the  frightful  sufferings  which  were  endured  by  the  Episco- 
palians whom  they  had  expelled.  At  all  events,  while  the  latter 
were  flying  into  exile  or  begging  their  bread  from  parish  to 
parish,  or  dying  off  of  sheer  starvation,  the  Presbyterians  to 
whom  their  miseries  were  owing,  were  peaceably  enjoying  the 
pleasant  fruits  of  victory.  The  Clergy  who  had  preached  up 
rebellion,  and  hounded  on  the  multitude  against  die  Bishops, 

and 


S4i6 


'flu  liicaiieuanf. 


and  U)  whose  efforts  the  overthrow  of  the  Tlininc  was  due,  were 
rosiiiig  on  th(r  fruits  of  their  I:iiK(Uv&.     Thcv  were  not  nltogelhcr 
satisfied  with  the  turn  thiogs  hiid  taken  :  for  like  the  Ciirondins 
m  the  French  rcvolutlou,  they  had  been  outbidden  luid  overcome 
by   innovators   inon-    lulvonired    than  tlieiiiselves.      But  though 
Cromweirs  rule  was  heavy,  hf  did  not  disturb  them  in  the  ph-a- 
sant  nests  from    which   thev  liad   rxiiclted    the  rightful   owners; 
:uid  therefore,  tliough  they  murmured,  they  did  not  <|uarrel  with 
his  despotism.     Bui   in  time  the  revolution  ran  its  course — the 
frenzy    s|)cnt    itself — the    fact    was    recognised    that    the   armed 
demand    for    lilierty  had  only  bred   worse   evils   tlian    !l  cured, 
'llie  time  of  restitution  eame  round.      The  Ohl    Monarcliy  find 
the  Old  Church  were  Aet    up  ;ia  they  had    been  before  the  evil 
days  boiifaa.      All  the  U5uri>ations  tlaat  had  sprung  up  during 
twenty  years    of    revolutionary    government   were   overthrown. 
All    who   had    niade  the    troubles   a  pretext    or  an  fK-rasIon  for 
phinHrr,  were  forced  to  disgorge  tlieir  bwoty.      And  among  other 
restitutions,  came  the  restitution  of  her  property  to  ihft  ChurclL 
'J'hose  who,  umler  the  shield  of  an  usurpetl  authority  hntl  fifteen 
or  eighteen  years   Iwforc  driven  the  rightful  owners  out  to  starve, 
wtTt"  eoinjM'Iled    to  yield   up   what    they  had  wrongfully  t«kcii. 
Ihit    tliis    retribution,   though    rigonmsly  just,    was   not    lilRrally 
prrssc<I    In  every  instance.      Where  the  ejecteil  owner  still  lived 
lo  claim  his  rightt,  rest!tuti<m  was  summarily  cnforceil.     Among 
those  who  suFTercHJ  under  this  obviously  righteous  measure  was 
Richard  Baxter.     His  prcdeccssw,  a  man  by  his  own  confessiiin 
of  blninclrss  life,  w.is    still  alive:    and    he  re-entered   without 
ilrl.-iv  u|H>n  tlir  nglit-t  of  which  he  had  been  so  long  ilepriveil.    It  is 
not  a  little  signifit-Hnt  that  Biixter  is  claimed  by  Mr.  •Slcinghton 
as  one  of  the  ejecltfd    martyrs  of  duit   time — though  one  would 
have   tlinught  tliat  no  question  concerning  the   justice  of   his 
ejectment  could    have  arisen.     But  those  intruders   whose  good 
fortune  it  was  that  their  ousted   ]>redece8S4>rs  had  perisheil  in  the 
interval,  were  fiufTcreil  to  n'main    upon    one  condition  ;  iitid  that 
condition  it  is  wlrich    now  nnises  a  useful  and  o]ipt>rtuni>  sym- 
jKithy  for   their   memory.       'ITit-y    were   re<juirud    to  accept   the 
principles  of  the  Church  of  Kngland ;    and  to  ascertain  the 
nrality  of    this   acceptation,  they    were    compelled   to   subscribe 
the  formularies  which  we  at  present  use,  which  htul  Itcen  settled 
in  Convocation,  and   been  approved  by  the  nnwlv-i-lifti'il  House 
of  Commons  without  a  dissenlient  voice.     Thi-   la]g«;  majority 
BCceptcd  these  terms,  and  remuined  in  iKissessIun  of  their  livings. 
A  certain  number,  variously  computed  at  from  one  to  two  thou- 
sand, declined  and  were  ejccteih 

It  is  diflicull  to  imagine  a  clearer  case.     In  restorin|^  those 

who 


TAr  JUicenieiMfff. 


2411 


w)h)  liiuJt  brcii  laivkssly  put  uut,  the  Parliuracnt  el'  the  Restora- 
tion jic'rt'oniml  nil  art  u(  simple  justice.  In  cxaetinjj^  a  test  of 
aUeg»am:e  l«  the  reslort-d  ("hurt-h  from  tlip  remaininp  intruders, 
ther  tiK>k  a  measure  uf  imllspensaljlr  jimcaiition.  It  Man  not  a 
mere  qDcslian  of  clemency  or  retilialion  that  presented  itself  to 
the  Parliament  of  that  day.  They  were  not  pronoancinff  the 
t)iM>m  c»f  ronijuered  reljels  fn>in  the  eminence  of  an  unshaken 
power.  Their  task  vras  far  more  difficult.  It  was  to  prop  up  an 
authority  which  had  lieen  rudely  shattered,  and  Init  imperfectly 
regtorwl.  Their  first  dutv  was  to  shelter  from  cjiternal  injury 
t}ieir  fresh  anil  frajrile  ^truciure.  Thev  knew  by  a  sad  exi)erience 
dearly  won,  that  no  assaults  npiinst  it  were  so  ftffmidaljle  as 
those  which  were  levelled  njfainst  it  from  the  pulpit.  Preachers 
lia<l  dcstroyril  tlip  Old  Church  and  the  yet  unbroken  power  of 
the  'llirone :  and  pre.ichers  might  well  l)c  able  to  cast  down 
afrain  a  7'lironc  and  Cliurch  so  recently  lifted  from  the  dtut. 
That  die  allegiance  of  the  clerjry  to  the  Church  should  Ise  well 
astHTtained,  was  not  only  just  in  itself  to  the  Church,  and  to  tlie 
t'on;jreg.ntions  over  wlmm  tbey  wire  to  watch,  but  was  im|wn- 
ously  demandetl  by  considerations  of  policy.  It  may  be  »ell  lu 
conciliate  malcontents* before  ihey  have  succeeded:  but  to  yield 
l«  them  pmitions  of  influence,  while  the  mcmorv  of  their  tiiiinei" 
succpsw*  is  still  fresh  in  their  minds,  is  to  make  them  not  friends 
but  m<isk-rs.  Their  <-onscioii!>ne!is  of  power,  atteste<I  bv  imjuinily, 
would  have  b(H.-na  slnm^^cr  emotifin  than  iheirfrratiUuK'  furii  I'livoiir 
which  they  would  have'  ascribt-'d  to  fear.  Tiiere  are  evil*  attendaut 
upon  every  change  of  |>oliticul  power,  even  where  it  consists  «1" 
the  restomtion  uf  a  ri^hlfuE  claimant  and  the  overthrow  of  an 
usurped  authority  :  and  one  of  tliose  cvila  is,  that  Uie  partisans  of 
the  dis])lacctl  rc^imr  must  be  excluded  from  odiccs  of  inlluenrc, 
in  which  tliey  may  fiud  facilllies  for  pIottiii;£f  for  its  ictutn.  Rut 
if  ever  there  was  a  case  in  which  this  neces&iiry  proscription  wore 
Oic  aspect  of  a  rigiiteous  retribution,  it  was  in  the  case  of  the 
^^^  Nonixmfor mists  of  1602.  If  they  were  |>trrsccut**d,  they  bad  per- 
^^■•ecnited  others — Churchmen,  Romanists,  and  Quakers — with  far 
^^^  more  vehemence  and  cj-uelty.  If  they  were  silenced  from  public 
H  preaching,  thev  had  imprisoneil  men  for  even  reading  in  the 
I  privacy  of  their  own  rooms  the  form  of  prayer  which  they  had 
H  been  brought  up  to  revere.  If  they  were  n-fused  toleration,  tliev 
■  hnfl  liieuiselves  den<uiiiccd  it  as  'the  greatest  courtesy  the  Devd 
H  could  ask  of  the  State.'  It  was  a  piteous  sight,  no  doubt,  to  see  the 
H  wives  and  children  going  forth  from  tlieir  parsonnges  to  starve. 
I  But  it  wasa  sight  which  the  Nonconformists  of  1G62  did  not  then 
I  see  for  the  first  time  Its  full  piteousness  had  not  struck  them  so 
B  forcibly  on  a  former  occasion,  when  those  who  were  doomed  to 
^^^  wander 


250 


The  Jiicentcnari/. 


WTUidcr  fuiili  without  n  linnic  anil  witluiut  a  hope  were  Cburch 
ppoplf,  ond  when  they  themselves  wero  iho  favoured  niccessnn 
for  whtise  benefit  the  ejectment  wa»  enforced.  It  makes,  no 
doubt,  a  {^nt  difference  in  a  nan't  feelings  on  such  occasions 
wlirther  ho  is  the  coming-in  tennnt  or  the  going-tmt.  Hut  tlicrc 
is  nn  impudence  verging  on  llje  gi-otewiiie  in  asking  pisterity  to 
mourn  for  the  nufTirings  of  those  who,  having  ])itilp8»ly  inflicted 
tliis  destitution  u|xiu  the  rightful  owners  in  the  first  instaocc, 
were  in  due  course  subjecteci  to  it  themselves.  It  would  be  as 
rensnnabic  to  ask  us  to  sympatiiize  with  Bonner  in  jirisnn,  or  with 
Kiibespierre  at  the  guillotine. 

Onr  estimate  of  tlin  I'uritnn  incjiml>ents,  whose  virtue  in  not 
keeping  by  n|xistjwy  wlmt  tliev  harl  gjiine<l  hy  violence  wo  arc 
now  called  upon  to  adote,  m;iy  w-em  prejudiced  and  harkh. 
No  doubt  a  case  may  be  made  for  them,  as  it  may  Ik*,  and  has 
been,  for  most  offendei-s  in  historv,  by  the  simph-  plan  of  denyine 
the  veracity  of  nil  autltorities  that  do  not  take  their  side.  Sucu 
an  exercise  of  ingenuity  was  cBplivnting  when  it  was  new;  bnt 
tlie  device  has  been  practisiil  now  til!  it  is  worn  out.  Since  the 
whitewashing  of  Alexander  Borgia  and  Tiljcrius,  the  canoniznlion 
■if  the  Puritan  intruders  is  a  flat  and  insignificant  achievement. 
Hut  to  show  that  our  view  is  not  the  fruit  of  any  monarchical  or 
cpiseo|uilinn  prejudices,  we  will  quote  tlie  words  of  an  eyo- 
witnesii  whose  mind  was  iwt  warped  bv  anv  liias  lu  that  direc- 
tion. John  Milton  is  the  witness  we  propose  to  calL  lilt 
scorn  for  the  character  of  his  wbllome  allies  evidently  proceeds 
from  a  minute  and  familiar  knowledge,  and  his  mind  was  so  full 
of  it  that  he  could  not  refrain  from  interpolating  the  expression 
of  it  into  the  middle  of  a.  history  of  the  contests  between  tbc 
Dritons  and  the  Picts.  We  quote  from  tJie  thinl  book  of  his 
*  liistory  of  England  :  * 

'  And  if  the  State  wore  in  this  plight,  religion  vraa  not  in  much  but- ' 
tcr :  to  reform  which,  a  certain  nnmhor  of  dinnos  was  called,  Boithoi 
ehoMn  by  any  rulo  or  cnstom  eccleMOfitieal,  nor  ominL-nl  for  fiither 
piety  or  seal  ahoro  others  left  nut ;  only  a»  each  Sfoniber  of  Parlia- 
ment in  his  jirivalo  fltficy  thonght  fit,  so  elected  one  by  one.  The  most 
port  of  them  wore  soob  an  I184I  pr««chcd  and  cried  down  nilh  grt«t 
phow  of  zeal  the  nvariee  nud  plnnJitiea  nf  bishopH  and  prelatee  ;  that 
one  euro  of  Bouk  wiw  Ml  emplojiucnt  for  one  spiritual  pastor,  how 
able  soeror,  if  not  a  cliarge  mtber  abo\ro  homau  strougtL.  Yet  them 
ooDMieQtioiU  mm  (cru  any  |iart  of  Iho  work  done  for  which  LheyoamQ 
to  togiitlier,  and  that  i>n  public  Balary}  wanted  not  boldooss.  to  ihv  igno- 
miny and  scandal  of  tliuir  pJuit(ii--Uko  profeesion,  and  spooially  of  Lboir 
hooMod  rofonnatioti,  to  miito  into  their  hands,  or  not  min-illinglj  to 
Boccpt  (boBidcs  one,  somuHnu^  two  or  more  of  Iho  bout  liviug^)  col- 
logiato   maatcrshipa   in  tlto  Universities,   rich  lectunx  in  the  City, 

Butting 


I 


I 


Tfa  Bicentemri/. 


251 


witiiig  fwil  to  nil  winilR  tbnt  migbt  Mow  gnin  into  tlieir  covntouB 
bowma ;  bv  which  inenns  these  great  rabnkcrfi  nf  non-rcsidohcc,  unong 
ao  man;*  dlstiuit  cnroft,  irare  not  asbaiuod  to  bo  boch  ko  quicklj  plu- 
raliita  and  non-residants  themselTeB,  to  &  fearful  cotidiitiiuntiou, 
doabtleAs,  out  of  their  own  months.  And  jot  the  nuiiu  doctriDc  for 
which  they  took  eurh  [iiiy,  luid  insistod  with  moro  vohcniouco  than 
gOin>ol,  Wiw  but  ti)  tell  iH  in  eHcct  that  their  doctniiu  koh  tvurUi 
tiotbing,  and  thu  spirituAl  jvowcr  t>f  thoir  ministry  \aisii  avuilHblu  than 
bodily  cumpuUiou  ;  jicrsuiuliug  llio  uiagistiiito  to  lUiu  it  as  u  stronger 
ttimns  t(i  fiiiWtin  and  bring  in  tiio  ron^tritmcua  tliaii  uvuiigulieal  por- 
rauion,  dietrusting  the  virtuo  of  their  own  spiritual  weapons,  which 
were  given  Uiem,  if  tlioy  bo  rightly  cnllcd,  with  fall  warrant  of  dof- 
ficieucy  to  pnll  donn  all  thoughb;  luid  iumgiimtimiH  tlmt  exalt  thoni<- 
•elveo  against  God.  But  whilo  they  tangbt  cotnpulsiou  without 
convinocmcni,  which  not  long  before  ttioy  oomplained  of  U  exeoulod 
imuhriNtianly  agaiuKt  thoiiiKeIvi.«,  ihtiir  iutentn  are  dear  to  faavo  boon 
no  better  than  anti christian ;  utting  up  n  spiritnal  tynuioy  \ff  a 
^ecuhu-  power  to  the  advancing  of  their  own  authority  ahoTe  tho 
inagiatmtu,  vrhum  thi-y  vrouid  liave  made  thoir  oxecutiouer,  to  punish 
Cliarcb  doUnqnc-ncies,  whoroof  civil  laws  have  no  cognisance. 

'  And  well  did  tlieir  disciplott  manifest  tlieniselvoB  t«)  bo  no  bettor 
prinriplcd  than  tlioir  ttjuchcrs ;  tnifited  with  coiiunittecships  and  other 
gainful  offices,  n])on  thoir  commendatiouii  for  zculous,  and  as  they 
Pticbod  not  to  tenn  tliem,  godly  men,  bnt  exoontizt^  thuir  plans  like 
childrtu  of  tlie  dovil,  nnfuthfally,  m^Jmtly,  nmnM-dfally,  and.  whore 
not  corruptly,  Btapidly.  Ho  that  between  them  tho  h^acheni,  and  tlicM 
Ui8  disoiploa,  there  liath  mtt  boon  a  niuru  i^omiiiiuufl  lUtd  mortal 
woniid  to  faith,  to  piety,  to  the  work  of  rLfumiatiou,  nor  more  oaaau 
of  bla«phumiug  given  to  the  «auiDuefl  of  God  and  truth,  aince  the  firvt 
'  preaobing  of  tliu  reformation. 

*  Thu  iH'oplo,  thcrofore,  looking  on  tho  Cfaorohmen  whom  they  saw 
under  aubtle  hypocrisy  to  have  preached  their  own  follies,  most  of 
tliunt  nut  the  Giispel.  tinie-iwrverB,  cuTotoiis,  iUiteralo  pentucut^^ini,  not 
lovers  of  the  truth,  like  in  most  thing*  whereof  they  accuaed  tlioir 
predcccflsors  ;~-looking  on  all  this,  tho  people,  which  had  been  kept 
wanu  for  a  while  with  Lhn  noniitxsrfttit  zi-aJ  of  thoir  pulpits,  after  a  &]m 
h«ai  beoame  more  cold  and  obdurato  than  before,  oome  turning  to 
lewdueaa,  some  to  flat  Atheism, — pat  beaido  tboir  old  religion,  and 
foully  aviuidaliHed  io  wliat  they  oS|»M:ti^  should  bo  now.'* 

Such,  ill  the  jmlgment  of  Jidiii  Milton,  was  thu  chnrartrr  of 
tlic  mou  of  wboin  imr  inndcm  \onconfui;inisls  proclaim  tbem- 
aoh'cs  tlie  successors.  iSuch,  in  the  eyes,  not  of  an  adventary, 
but  merely  of  a  disenchanted  friend,  was  tlie  hue  of  ihal  sanctity 
whk'b  now,  after  the  lap^e  of  two  hiuidrri)  vpnrs,  nrrds  a  Hiirtn* 
tcnary  festival  to  celebrate  it  worthily.  Dr.  Vaughaii  proposes 
summarily  to  ignore  Walker's  'Hiatory  of  tlie  iiulTeriugs  of  the 


4 


■  Bitt.  of  EiiglBtu].'  Book  Ui.  princip. 


ClcriSlj' 


252  Tilt  Bkentemmf. 

Cler^V  *  *>n  the  ground  iil'  the  anivitts  betrayed  by  his  prcfiirc. 
Walker  was  umluubtedl^  a  Kovallst,  ami,  to  a  certain  extent,  a 
High  Cliur<:hman  ;  but  there  is  in  his  preface  no  dcnunciatiun  of 
the  I'uritan  intruders  op  oI"  their  spcular  instruments  more  severe 
than  that  which  is  contained  in  the  above  judgment  of  thcRcpuh- 
!icun  aiwl  Puritin  John  Mihon. 

It  is  fair  tn  day  that  the  incumbents  repaid  with  interest  the 
invectives  of  their  critics.  The  words  of  Baxter,  one  of  the 
ejected,  may  suffice  as  a  sample :  '  llic  late  ^ncration  uf  proud, 
ignorant  sectaries  amongst  us  have  quite  outstripped  in  lliis  (vt:ii. 
self-suffirieiK-y  ami  censure  of  others)  the  vilest  perspiniUirs.  He 
is  the  nblest  of  their  ministers  that  ran  rail  at  miiiistent  in  the 
most  devilish  fashion/  TIte  two  sections  had  been  lon^  enough 
in  each  other's  company  to  be  fully  alive  to  each  other's  frailties. 
The  Independents  were  angry  with  the  Presbyterians  for  their 
hyporrisv.  f^™!  •!•**  Prrshvterinns  were  disj^sted  willi  tlie  inviv 
terntf!  turhuleiice  whii'h  was  not  satisfntl  with  the  hap|iy  changPi 
that  had  veslwl  all  the  Cliurch  rcvenut*  in  themselves.  There 
is  ii  proverbial  advantage  that  results  («»  honest  men  from  the 
falling  out  of  such  mlvcrsaries ;  and  io  it  happened  in  the 
year  1660. 

Time  has  burie-d  in  ohlivirin  the  heartv  enmity  witli  which 
the  two  s*-etionK  of  Nonconfurmists  regnrdiil  cac-h  other  at  tlic 
lit^tnnttion.  In  spite  of  their  ilIlTering  principles  u{)on  the 
tiuesti<iii  of  Establishments,  their  alliance  as  aiitagDiiistA  uf 
the  Church  of  England  has  rcvivwl  in  its  full  force.  Whetlier 
the  resuscitatr<I  friendship  is  to  liear  the  fruits  it  bore  uf  old, 
time  alom*  can  show. 

Theixt  is  something  painfully  ominous  in  this  ostentatious  com- 
bination of  diose  who  do  and  those  who  do  nut  admit  the  law- 
folness  of  a  State  religion ;  and  it  is  not  reassuring  to  find  that 
the  coalition  takes  place  In  honour  oj'  a  stmilnr  coalition  which 
overthrew  Church  and  Tlirone  two  hundred  years  ago.  There 
is  a  curious  analogy  between  the  two  |H.-riiKls.  The  Indejien- 
dents  were  fully  conscious  that  by  themselves  they  were  too  few 
and  too  unpopular  to  overthrow  the  Church  which  they  abhorred. 
Accordingly  they  made  common  cause  with  religionistji  with 
whom  they  had  little  in  common,  and  wliosc  Erostiantsm  Oiey  at 
heart  despised  ;  trusting  to  (he  course  of  events  to  ilispose  of 
their  allies,  when  their  allies  had  scn'ed  tlie  purpose  of  the 
moment.  They  did  not  put  forward  their  own  views  very  pro- 
minently. They  kept  their  fierce  republicanism  and  their  bitter 
aversion  to  a  national  Church  in  the  hackgruund,  bihI  they 
allowed  their  instruments,  the  Presbyterians,  to  come  forward  to 
direct  the  first  onset  and  carry  off  the  corliest  spoil.     Bv  the  help 


77ffl  Bicentenary, 


253 


of  the  Presbyterians  they  were  able  (o  uproot  both  Church  aad 
j  jnoDarchy ;  and  whfu  tliai  vrurk  was  ili)ne.  they  gained  power 
enough  to  lay  e(iu.'i]ly  low  the  Presbvterinns  thpmscUes.  Their 
disappoiiitml  allies  repented  when  it  was  too  late;  fur  they  justly 
felt  that  without  their  aid  the  enterprise  of  the  Independents  must 
inevilnblv  have  misciuried.  But  they  ditl  not  discover  either 
ilkat  Hwy  were  suwin*  a  erop  wliich  others  were  to  n-Oj),  or  that 
thev  were  eonspirinj^  to  set  up  worse  tyrants  than  those  tiicy  were 
throwing  down,  till  the  deed  was  done  beyond  recall. 

It  almost  seems  as  if,  in  the  revolving  cycle  of  liuman  aflhirs, 
the  same  trick  were  about  to  l»e  ngnin  played  by  the  same  rfst- 
Icsa  schemers  u[khi  tlir  same  arciimplire-ilupes.  The  Bln-nte- 
narv  is  not  to  Im?  a  mere  i:<immeiiit>raUon  :  it  is  nut  to  be;  simply 
a  Disscntin(r  Saints'  Day,  or  an  adoration  in  Chinese  fashion  of 
theOreal  Ancestors:  it  is  distinctly  announced  as  the  commenec- 
ment  of  a  great  pnlittcal  agitation.  A  solid  clmraetrr  is  tti  lx> 
piven  ti>  thf  sentimental  coiiliMnplatioii  of  tlie  dead  by  tin* 
mnroction  of  ineajiures  which  sh:dl  extract  from  it  subgtantial 
profit  for  the  living.  And  imieed  ^vithout  some  such  ulterior 
object  it  would  be  verv  iliflicult  for  the  modern  Dissenters  to 
carry  out  the  projected  demonstration  witli  any  <ieeeiit  zenl.  The 
varirius  sects  win*  an*  to  etirnbiue  in  this  celebration  ajjrce  ullh 
«ich  other  iii  very  few  things;  but  thev  agree  with  the  ejected 
of  lf)()3  in  fewer  still.  'Hie  chief  movers  in  this  project  are  tlie 
Inde|)eudents,  whose  prominent  principle  is  abhorrence  of  a  State 
Church,  The  ejected  of  16ti2  M-ere  ministers  of  a  State  Church, 
hnd  been  so  for  many  years,  and  ceased  to  W  so,  not  because  they 
were  tn)ub!ed  with  qiialnis  about  Kmstiunism,  but  because  the 
State  Church,  having  icgainetl  its  freedom,  lost  nn  time  in  ridding 
itself  of  those  who  biul  conspired  with  its  oppressors.  U  must 
be  a  verv  distinct  view  of  immediate  political  advantage  that  can 
induce  the  Independents  to  celebrate  tho  memory  of  men  by 
whom  tlicir  own  special  and  essential  tenet  would  have  I»een  east 
out  as  heresv.  Such  a  sacrifice  of  convictions  fur  tlie  soke  of  a 
powerful  alliance  bodes  an  immediate  and  vigorous  prosecution 
of  the  war. 

The  very  point  which  the  Congregational  Union  have  desig- 
nated as  the  subject-matter  of  the  agitation  which  this  Iticentenary 
U  to  inaugurate,  leaves  us  in  no  doubt  that  ihey  are  following  in 
Uie  footsteps  of  their  falJiers,  and  iMirrowing  again  the  tactics 
which  answerMl  so  well  tiro  centuries  ago.  It  is  clear  tliat  the 
moderate  Dissenters  are  asain  to  enjoy  the  honour  of  pulling  the 
chesnuts  out  of  the  fire.  That  '  act  of  spiritual  wickedm-ss,*  die 
Art  of  Unifonnitv,  is  to  be  the  object  of  ntt.nek.  liidepeDdeiits 
are  enjiiiiied  to  urge  upon    mankind,  fntm   tlie  pulpit  and   the 

pint  form. 


platform,  tho  *  iaunoralitT '   of  suhscriptioa.      Pram   the  more 
moderate    Nonconformists    this   language   is  well    enough.      It 
wouUl   Ije   intclligilile    in    the   mnutlia  of  Presbyterians,   or  Me- 
thodists;  but  what  docs  it  inonn  in  Uic  mouths  of  Intlependents  ? 
What   liavc    they    to    do    ^fitb    the    Act   nf    Uniformity   or  titc 
immorality  of  teats?     Tho  tests  which  this  Act  cstabli&lied  wc 
conditions  under  which  endowments  were  to  be  held,  ami  th 
privileges  of   serving    a   ycito    Church   were   to    be  tonferreiL 
'I'liose  whom  these  tests  rxeludc  Imvc   a   jicrfcet  right  to  ciy  nir 
ng&inut   tlieui ;  but  hoiv  do  they  coiu^cni  the  ludcjH-mli'nts,    whci 
would  not   hold  eitdowmeiits  ujion  nny  conditions  whatever,  an 
to  whom  the  privileges  of  a  Slate  Church  arc  au  accursed  thing  fj 
What  hare  they  to  do  witb  an  agitation  against  the  Act  of  U 
furinity,  which  excludes  them  from  nothing  that  tlicy  could  undc 
niiv  winceivnble   circumstimccs   t-njoy  ?      Ami   what   motive   ra 
it  be  that  urKCs  tbem  to  place  themselves  at  the  head  of  a  muv< 
moat  for  its  repeal  ? 

The  question  is  not  rcr^'  hard   to  answer.     Their  motive  ii 
precisely  that  which  weighed  with  the  Imlepcndents  at  the  tlm 
of  tho  great  Rebellion.    Tliey  have  no  more  real  syn^nilhy  witli  th» 
Wcsh'Yaos  or  tbe  Presbyterians  than  Croniwetl  and  llorrUon  had 
with  the  IVesbyterians  of  their  day.     They  have  no  reul  ubjoctina 
to  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  fur  the  ^tate  of  things  which  precml 
it  is  as  i>dious  to  them  as  the  state  of  thinf;s  which  followed  iV 
But  tlicy  need  allios.     They  arc  too   ficw  and  too  unpopular  t 
fight  alone.   Their  views  are  too  repulsive  to  the  moss  of  English* 
men  ti^  give  them  a  chiuice  of  success  until  the  public  miinl  lias 
bei-ii  prc|>aied  bv  prelimiimrv  measures  of  subversioo  of  a  milder 
ami  less  st.irtlttig  kin<L 

Mr.  Miall  and  his  friends  of  tho  Liberation  Society  have  been 
recently  convinced  of  the  unpopularity  of  their  schemes  by  a 
rude  ami  unceremonious  metlxKl  of  persuasion.  Both  he  mxI 
Mr.  Bright  liavecommitleil  thf  error,  capital  iu  revolutionists,  of 
loo  great  frankness.  It  is  very  seldom  llmt  the  established  state 
of  things  is  so  weak  tliat  it  can  be  carried  by  storm  at  the  first 
Attack:  it  must  be  reached  by  slow  and  gradual  approaches;  its 

(irinciiml  defences  must  be  laboriously  mined ;  its  garrison  must 
K>  denioraljiutl  by  the  concessions  of  treacherous  or  faint- hearted ^J 
friends.     'I1ie  professors  of  extreme  opinions,  whn  always  in  tha^f 
end  profit  by  revulutluns,  only  damage  their  own  chances  by  np> 
pearing  too  early  on  the  scene.     There  is  always  a  danger  that 
th"  premnturp  jiublication  of  their  ultimate  aspirations  may  lerrifjr^B 
the  parliwins  of  the  i-stablishcd  stale  of  things,  and  rouse  thom  to^^ 
Ml  nliBtinati?  n-sislntice.      It  is  always  better   to   let  tlie  moderate 
party  do  their  work.      They  will  destroy  the  assailed   institution 


quite 

d 


The  Bietrntenttrij. 

quite  Bs  cOcctively,  tliougU  they  may  take  a  loDgnr  time  in  lining 
it;  njid  dicv  will  meet  M'ith  a  much  loss  resolute  resistance  There 
uu«t  always  bo  Giroudins  tu  jiavc  thr  wny  fur  Jacobins ;  there 
must  alway*  bo  Pn;sbyterians  tu  open  the  dour  fur  hi(k*|>cndcuts  ; 
there  must  always  be  seotimeutol  Liberals  to  sniouth  the  way  for 
hard-beadi'il  priictical  RaUicals.  Mr.  ^^ialI  and  Mr.  Bright  have 
made  the  same  sort  of  iiusUike  as  Dunton  wouM  have  tominittetl 
if  he  had  demamlcd  the  erection  uf  the  revolutionary  tribunal  in 
'the  year  1789.  'I'bcy  hare  startled  tlie  world  by  a  candid  and 
^feithful  delineation  of  the  abyss  down  which  they  wore  iuvitin;; 
Us  tu  dcAcend,  before  we  had  well  accomplished  the  preliminary 
jMages.  Anil  in  the  cage  of  the  Church  of  Eiit^land  their  randour 
been  peculiarly  ill-advised.  The  Churirh  uf  England  is  too 
laxsivp  a  fortress,  her  bulwarks  are  prrounde<l  too  deeply  in  the 
[Affections  of  the  nation,  \a>  be  carriwi  by  storm  at  a  sinj^lc  blow, 
for  arc  the  affections  of  the  people  in  this  case  her  only  dct'ence. 
The  parlieutai  mejisures,  advocated  by  her  antagonists  for  the  pur- 
pose of  destroying  her,  outrage  a  set  of  fee]in«;s  moreBenaitlvc  and 
more  widely  spread  than  any  ecclesiastical  alle^riance.  ProjiTts  uf 
l|K>Iintiona)ann  other  classes  besides  the  friends  uf  the  Church  ;  for 
landed  proprietors  have  an  instinctive  aversion  to  seeing*  landed 
pmpertv  violently  ln»nsterre<l.  Proposals  for  annihilating  one  of 
the  estates  of  the  realm  have  an  intcrc-st  which  is  something  more 
than  ecclesiastical.  Many  very  indevout  politicians  would  look 
with  consternation  at  an  attempt  to  make  so  large  a  hole  in  tile 
foundations  of  the  ancient  edifice  of  the  Constitution.  The  result 
is,  that  tlie  tactics  of  the  Liberation  Society  up  to  this  time  have 
eminently  failed.  They  did  not  want  lor  many  elements  of  surcfss. 
Their  orgnniiiation  was  perfect,  and  the  funds  placed  nt  their 
command  furnislied  at  least  a  pledj^  of  their  sincerity  and  nr^ueil 
a  Xf^l  .-tmountinf;  to  fanaticism.  But  tliough  the  presiture  which 
lliey  have  broujiht  to  l)ear  on  Pnrlinment  has  lieen  considerable, 
[.their  jHtlitical  success  has  not  proved  proportionate  to  the  outl.iy 
^either  of  money  or  of  labour.  Up  to  this  lime  tlie  investment  has 
been  a  failure.  Tlie  apparent  pTosi>crity  whicJi  smiliHl  npon 
them  for  a  rmisidi'rable  number  of  years  has  been  suddenlv 
blif;hte<l  by  an  unlookeit-for  chaufre  of  fortune.  Their  fn*nuent 
triumphs  and  jn-owinp  power  in  Parltainnit  had  deluded  ihein 
into  the  belief  that  tlieir  victories  were  due  to  their  own  i*al  pre- 
ponderance in  the  country,  when  in  truth  lliey  were  onlv  snatched 
from  the  indnlcnce  of  llii-ir  opjmnents.  But  when  the  Church  at 
Inst  was  induced  lo  rouse  herself,  the  delusion  disapneaied.  Lord 
Melbourne  used  to  saj',  in  his  reckless  way,  •  it  takes  a  great  deal  to 
move  the  Charch  of  Knf^land,  but,  when  alie  is  once  moved,  the 
devil  himself  cannot  stop  her.'     'I'he  last  two  or  thrw  years  have 

signally 


sifrnalJy  verified  tlic  accuracy  of  this  description :  nt  least  Mr. 
Miall  «m!  Ills  friends  Imve  mrt  lieeii  able  tn  stop  her.  All  the 
visions  itf  spidiutiim  n.nil  conftscatiun,  upoti  wliirli  fura  luii^  time 
post  they  liad  hccti  rcj^alini;  their  imaginations,  have  nddenly 
vani^hcil;  and  even  the  small  mor*cl  of  cburch-ratei,  with  which 
tiiev  wore  hoping  to  lake  ofl"  the  hungrv  edge  of  their  appetite, 
has  heen  simtchnl  from  their  vnry  niuuths.  Il  has  henn  no  littlp 
pnK>f  of  thr  r<>n),  thou^;h  too  ofttni  tlonnaiit,  jtouer  of  thn  Chint-h, 
tliat  she  has  huen  abh*  to  roui^H'!  tht?  Ht>use  of  Commons  to  con- 
demn as  unjust  by  a  majority  of  seventeen  that  which  three  years 
before  the  same  body  of  men  had  sanctioned  by  a  majority  of 
seventy. 

It  must  have  been  abundantly  riear  for  some  time  past,  cvon 
to  tlie  ininilti  of  Ures  prarticnl  strat4^g:i&ts  than  Mr.  Miall,  tliat  his 
tai-ttcs  hati  broken  down.  The  vital  delect  of  them  was  a  want 
of  power.  They  would  have  been  suitable  rnouj^h  if  he  liad  been 
manwuvring'  at  the  head  of  a  really  furtnidablv  force.  But  he 
had  nt-'ver  at-tually  cuninianded  more  than  a  very  insignifiautt 
portion  of  the  cnnstitucntit!!! ;  and  though  by  abumianec  of  noite 
and  rapidity  of  movement,  ami  a  clever  use  of  the  close  balancv  of 
j>arti»,  he  had  given  them  tlie  appearance  of  ten  times  their 
mimbcr,  it  was  impossible  but  that  such  a  deception  should  be 
unmask(>fl  at  last.  If,  indeed,  the  Church  were  to  relax  from  the 
exertions  she  has  taken  so  tardily,  it  is  not  inijiossible  that  the 
fortune  of  the  war  might  change  again.  A  Member  of  Parliament 
is  an  admirable  tlvnamonietei'.  He  nteasures  with  exact  precision 
tlie  amount  of  pressure  to  the  square  inch  exerted  upon  him  by 
the  opposing  parties  in  hJs  constituency.  At  one  time  the 
Churcmniui  slumber:^  while  the  more  wakeful  Dissenter  presses 
witli  his  whole  force ;  and  the  Member,  with  responsive  libe- 
rality, professes  that,  while  he  is  an  attached,  though  unwortliy, 
member  of  the  K&ublished  Church,  he  feels  diat  the  moment 
for  concession  lias  amved.  At  :uio(hcr  time  the  Churchman  Is 
half  awalce,  anil  the  pressure  is  toleniblv  e<|ual ;  an<l  accordingly 
the  Member  g<ics  to  the  Chester  nires  on  the  day  of  the  iHvIsioni 
or  is  afllicti-d  wiOi  an  opportune  influenza.  When  at  lost,  with 
much  difliculty,  the  Churchman  is  fully  roused,  and  tho 
pressure  begins  to  correspond  to  the  real  relative  power  of 
the  two  jiarties,  then  the  Member  comes  to  the  conclusion,  with 
regret,  nnil  with  r%-riy  desire  to  pmmote  religious  ttbertv,  tlmt 
the  limit  of  coiu-ess'ion  has  been  rear1ie<),  and  that  the  eiicroaeli- 
merit  of  Dissenters  must  be  resist^Ml,  If  tliis  liiis  nut  bemi 
always  the  tone  of  t lie  uiajority  of  the  House  of  Commutis,  it  is 
simply  the  Churchmen  thcraselvei  who  are  to  blame.  As  long* 
as  they  maintain  the  energetic  attitude  which  has  prfiduretl  so 

marked 


I 


The  Bkrttlmarif. 


257 


marked  on  cfTect  on  the  division  list,  ko  tonf;  all  direct  attacks 
ngninst  Chnrch  property  will  fail.  'l"hey  will  merely  serve  to 
disrrcMlit  and  to  weaken  the  party  from  whom  they  come. 

Mr.  Miall  1111(1  tlip  other  anlr  men  wliii  dirert  tlie  movemrnts 
uf  tlie  Lilirratiiin  jsirtv  ni>jwar  not  In  he  insensilile  tn  tin*  vast 
(liHteullit^  wliifli  Imvi*  sudilcnly  surrimndrU  their  onrc  prosptT- 
ous  undertaking^,  'llie  direct  attack  must  be  postponed  imle- 
finitcly  till  Churchmen  shall  be  lulled  rilf  into  apatliy  again  ;  an 
Kvent  which  is  not  likely  to  take  pta<-e  till  a  (generation  has  f^iiwn 
lip  tliat  is  i}»iM>rant  of  the  eviili-iieeof  I)r,  I'ltster  and  Mr.  Siunucl 
Morley.  The  lime  is  i-onie  for  a  new  system  i>f  lartics.  'ITje 
enterprise  cannot  succeed  if  it  is  left  in  tlif  hands  of  those  alone 
who  object  to  established  Churches  altogether.  The  atoick- 
in(j  for*'e  must  lie  strength em!<l  by  nllies  n^cruited  from  some 
other  ([uarter.  Tlierc  an?  malcontents  in  pk-nty  to  be  found  who 
arc  httttile  enough  to  the;  Cliurch,  but  whose  ln«titity  does  not 
eitend  to  a  dislike  uf  Church  oslubtishmonts  altogether.  IS'um- 
bers  of  the  sects  who  have  multiplied  outside  the  pale  of  the 
Kstnblished  Church  arc  dirided  Irom  her  either  by  some  ]»int  of 
inridcnl"!  or  secondary  importancv.  It  is  either  some  small 
point  of  ecclesiastical  discipline,  or  a  general  dislike  of  restraint 
on  the  part  i>f  tlieir  original  founders  ;  or  iheir  schism  was  caused 
in  the  first  instanco  by  the  a|)achy  u  llh  which  the  zeal  of  tliusc 
founders  Mas  originally  encountered,  ami  has  since  maintained 
itself  by  the  strength  of  its  own  momentum.  They  have  no  more 
dislike  to  ilie  principle  of  an  Establishraent  than  a  poor  iiinn  dis- 
likes the  principlf  of  property.  The  only  wish  they  entertain 
upon  liie  subject  is  that  a  portion  of  the  property  should  belong  to 
them.  To  a  certain  extent  these  sects  have  given  their  assistance 
in  the  agitation  against  the  church-rate  because  tJtai  is  a  kind  of 
property  which,  by  the  unfortunate  arrangements  of  the  exist- 
ing law,  seems  to  take  the  form  of  a  personal  contribution  from 
ihcmsL'lves.  Rut  farther  than  this  they  cannot  be  induced  to  gu. 
Tlicy  will  not  join  in  aiiv  movement  so  revolutioitary  as  one  that 
seeks  to  pour  into  the  coflers  of  the  State  the  revenues  which  the 
Established  Church  now  draws  from  tithes  and  land.  Vet  their 
aid  must  1k'  had,  if  any  success  is  Xn  be  iirhitnrfd.  Accordingly 
a  new  line  of  attnrk  appears  In  havi-  bron  skclcheil  out,  ill 
which  thev  may  he.  induced  to  Ijear  a  part.  Hlw  pun-ly  destruc- 
tive enterprise  is  put  aside  for  tlio  present.  It  ts  not  professcflly 
renounced,  far  less  abandoned ;  but,  for  the  present,  till  better 
days  shall  dawn,  it  is  not  to  be  ostentatiously  avoweil  or  vigor- 
ously pushed.  And  those  citamptons  who  have  had  the  goiMl 
fortune  not  to  enmmil  themselves  to  it  an-  hciievfortli  to  use  ]an- 
^agf>  of  studied  modRralion.     Thej  ore  lo  profess  an  incxhaust- 

Vol.  112.— iVy.  2t3.  8  ibie 


I 


S58 


Tlir  BiceiUraanf. 


ibic  tenderness  for  Church  property,  and  a  religious  itfjard   ft 
the  sanctity  "f  tithes.     The  alarmiag  wfttchwonii  of  tlic  Libera- 
tion S<jcicty  are  not  to  cross  their  lips.     In  their  stcail  ihey  are 
be  furnished  wit]i  a  totally  tlifltTciit  pattern  of  cry,  properly  fitt 
up  with  hran-new  sentiments  and  faets.      In  pursuance  of  Oicnmr 
policy,   it  would  even  scvm  tliat  a  change   of  rommandcrs  has 
taken   place.      For  the  coming  campaign   generahi  have    been 
Bppointnl  who  are  likely  to  command  the  confidence  of  the  ncwlvH 
joined  allies.     It  is  ncedlcsa  to  say  that  Dr.  Foster  will  give  dH 
more  evidence.      Mr.   Miall   and  '  the  noi»y  political  agitators 
an?  puhliely   disclaimed  by  iufluenlial  Dissenters.*     Ulr.    Miall 
himself  even  tries  to  escape  hy  ejcplanationsofa  far-fetcheil  charac- 
ter from  the  too  candid  phrases  of  his  *  Nonconformist  Sketch- 
book.'    In  the  campaign  which  this  bicentenary  celebration  is  lo 
commence,  it  is  evident,  from  the  speeches  that  have  been  nlrewly 
delivered,   that  the  wvajwns  employed  will  l>e  of  a  synijwtJielic 
and  sentimental  character.     Mr.  Bright,   with  his  unmanageable 
rockets,  which  only  put  lus  own  side  to  rout,  is  to  be  sent  igQO- 
ininiously  to  the  rear.   To  iivoid  exasperating  debates,  operations 
are  to  bi!  conducted  in  the  House  of  Lords,  where  the  burly  Cleon 
of  the  Liberation  Society  will  be  unable  to  assist  the  Church  with 
one  of  his  invaluable  invot:tive8.      In  his   place   the  Dissenting 
cause  is  to   be  represented   by  the  mild  onitory  of  Lord   Ebury,    , 
whose  meek  helplessness  under  Uie  fire  of  his  episcopal  adversarjjnBj 
wit  is  more  likely  to  exriti-   pity  than  defiance     The  object  oH 
the  attack  is  no  longer  to  be  the  uniou  of  Church  and  State,  but 
^ly  the  Act  of  Uniformity  :  *  Comprehension,'  not '  Cooiiscatioa^ 
*"   to  be  the  cry.  ^| 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  ibc  wisdom  and  the  setf-rcstraint  wii^^ 
whieh   the   new   policy  of  the  LilKTiiliuoists  has  hern    selecleil. 
|Thcy  have  renounced  all  idea  of  using  the  approaching  festiv 
for  the  open  propagation  of  their  own  |>eculiar  views.     They 
willing  to  leave  their  own  pet  schemes  to  be  worked  out  by 
indirect  though  certain  operation  of  the  movement  into  whi 
they  are  hurrying  their  guileless  allies.     For  a  time  the 
Content  lo  follow,  in  unler   that  they  may  one  day  lead.      1  hey 
are  satisfied  lo  join  in  the  clamour  for  concessions  wliich  are  not 
ipparently  incompatible  with  the  idea  of  an  Established  Church, 
tnowiog  that  from  such  concessions  its  ruin  must  surely  a 
swiftly  follow.     In  the  mean  time  the  cry  of  *  Comprehension  * 
everything   that   an    agitator  can    desire.     It   possesses  all   t' 

annlities  of  a  good,  useful,  scr^-iccable  cry.     It  docs  not   stnkc 
lat  terror  into  the  hearts  of  secular  proprietors  which  is  excited 


Tfw  liicetticjiaty. 


S59 


hy  any  Mnt  of  spotiation.  It  can  ix-  carrifid  oal  witlioui  opcm 
violation  of  the  riglits  ot"  propt-rtv.  And  to  Dinnv  mcji,  who  do 
not  look  beneath  the  surface,  it  has  a  vcr}'  captivutiafi;  suimd. 
ScpaiBtion,  isolation,  exclusion,  are  nercr  pleasant  wottls  tn  a 
(JLristian  car.  There  are  no  earnest  men  of  anT  party  but  lou|^ 
IW  the  daj  when  thr  ^unhappy  divisions,'  against  which  we 
annually  jmiy,  and  which  pamlyze  so  ranch  of  the  strencrth  of 
Christianity,  sUnll  be  healed  up.  iThcre  is  no  diffcrcnco  of 
upinion  as  to  the  soreness  of  the  disease;  but  it  is  far  more 
cLiflicult  to  agree  upon  the  cause  from  which  it  arises  and  thttii 
remedy  that  is  to  cure  it.  Those  who  inquire  of  history  for  a| 
reply,  and  have  noted  how  thece  dirisions  date  from  tlie  first] 
dawn  of  tlic  existence  of  onr  rcUj^ion,  how  they  hare  hardened 
with  its  growth  and  multiplied  with  ita  extension,  will  be  slow 
to  believe  that  an  Act  of  Parliament  has  caused  them,  or  that  an 
Act  of  Parliament  con  be  their  cure.  A  dc<'per  origin  and  a 
more  inveterate  character  mu&t  Ik*  assigned  to  a  disease  which 
has  clung  to  Christianity  in  every  land  and  evert'  a|?e  where  it 
has  been  submitted  to  ^c  action  of  the  speculations  and  t&e 
passions  of  men.  But  the  Libenttion  Society  are  quite  right  in 
their  calculation  that  numbers  of  men  will  take  a  more  super>l 
ficial  and  a  more  sanguine  view.  There  are  many  kindly  and| 
gentle  natuies  who  cannot  bear  to  believe  that  such  a  malady  is 
iacnrable,  and  prefer  to  impute  the  existence  of  divisions  to  the 
formtUas  of  doctrine  which  arc  the  subjects  oi  controrenj. 
IKssent,  they  think,  would  not  exist,  if  the  dng^mas  which  arc] 
dissented  from  were  swept  owsy  ■  nonconform  ity  would  cease,  if 
the  tests  which  ascertain  it  were  ahttlisheel.  They  do  not  pro- 
pose to  themselves,  much  less  to  their  brotlior  Churchmen,  lliat 
all  dogmas  5h.ill  be  alK>lishMl,  and  all  tests  relaxed,  so  as  tu 
include  every  species  of  Dissenter  within  the  nominal  unity  of 
the  reconstructed  Church.  Most  of  them,  probably,  would 
admit,  if  hard  pressed,  that  nnivemi  conformity  wuitld  be  dearly 

Eurchased    by  the  abandonment   of   all    dogma   of   every    kiniLj 
Int  they  are  willin<?  to  carrv  out  upon  a  small  scale  tlir  pruc 
which  they  shrink  from  pushing  to  its  ultimate  extent.     'Hierl 
will  not  sell  all  their  dogma  to  buy  any  amount  of  conformity;' 
but  they  will  sell  a  little  dogma  to  buy  a  little  conformitv. 
Tliey  onlv  wish   to   relax  the  test  jnsl   a   little-,  bo  as  to  include 
within   its  limits   »t>ine  sectaries  who  are  lying  close    upoa  the 
bonier.     But  whfti  ihev  have  arrumplished  that  relaxation,  they 
hare  no  wish  to  go  further.     They  will  entirtain  no  project  for] 
including  the  sects  a  little  further  on,  who  will  then  be  iWng 
ch»se  upon  the  border,     lliey  are  fully  resolved  to  deleud  the 
new  test  just  ns  vigorously  as   we  are  now  defending   the  old. 

s  2  Whetlvet 


Wliutlitrr  tlioy  will  be  able  to  do  so,  or  whether  their  own  present 
efforts  may  not  herenlter  lumish  a  formidable  vantage-ground  to 
the  C'omprchensionists  of  a  future  day,  are  questions  with  wliich 
(hey  do  not  ilistrrss  thnnselvc-s.  It  is  sufficient  ftir  tlio  present 
tlial  tbey  ilcsirr  to  tlirow  opm  tlie  rtnulunients  of  die  Church  lu 
their  own  fnvourite  ufts  of  Dissenters.  An<i  accordinply,  with 
Li)nl  Kbury  at  their  beail  and  Mr.  Miall  ia  their  rear,  all  tlie 
Oissentera  and  a  number  of  quasi  Cliurchmen  are  arraying  them- 
selves against  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  which  is  the  main  obstacle 
to  the  partirulnr  eom pmbrnMoii  whieh  lliey  desire.  It  has  nut 
occurrciJ  Uj  tbi-*in  to  inquire  what  is  the  motive  to  which  they 
owe  the  fiuspiL-ious  assistancL-  of  the  Iiide|)en(b*at8,  or  why  tim 
Congregational  Union  have  organized  a  '  Bicentciiary  '  to  bolster 
up  their  agitation.  That  astute  IkkIv  of  men  do  not  usually 
waste  tlieir  powder  in  idle  expressions  of  sympathy.  That  they 
tu  whom  a  National  Chureh  is  odious  t-an  gain  nothing  by 
opening  its  portals  wider,  needs  no  proof.  They  eannol  ex(»ect 
any  direct  advantage  from  the  ri'[)eal  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity. 
If  must,  tliea,  l>e  an  indirect  advanUige  that  they  expect.  It  is 
possible  that  they  look  a  little  furtlxer  than  Lord  Ebury  docs. 
Perhaps  they  do  not  believe  in  tlie  moderate  and  limitotl  Compre- 
hension upon  which  he  confidently  <y>unts.  They  have  probably 
rxamined  with  care  llie  extent  of  the  changes  wluch,  willingly  or 
unwillingly,  Lord  Ebury,  if  victorious,  will  achieve,  and  the 
effect  whieh  those  changes  will  have  upon  the  stability  of  the 
National  Church,  As  the  result  of  the  cx«mination  has  licen  a 
determination  to  give  Lord  Ebury  their  unqualified  support — in 
fact  to  do  his  agitation  for  him — it  may  be  worth  while  to  follow 
them  for  n  short  distance  upon  that  gromid. 

If  Lord  Ebury  had  lived  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  had  been 
more  successful  in  converting  the  Bishops  of  that  day  than  he  is 
witli  the  Uishops  of  this,  it  is  possible  that  he  might  have 
effecteit  llir  comprehension  he  desires  with  only  a  m<jderate 
amount  of  harm  to  the  Church.  There  is  no  doubt  that  political 
rt>n$idcrations  weighed  (|uite  as  strongly  as  those  connectifd  with 
religion  in  i)r(iu-ril>ing  the  ti^sts  tliat  were  adopt^l  at  ilmt  time. 
In  1662  it  was  necessary  to  prevent  the  Church  endowments 
from  IwJng  used  to  fe«l  an  insurrectionary  propaganda ;  and  iit 
1690  it  was  necp-ssary  to  save  her  from  the  hands  of  a  <-li(|iin  of 
]Millti('al  adventurfTS  who  wished  to  make  her  an  instrument  for 
Kccuring  thL*ir  own  ascendcnev.  If  only  religious  considerations 
had  been  in  qucsti<m,  it  is  proliable  that  a  point  would  liave 
Iwcn  stretched  in  include  some  of  the  more  moderate  Noncom- 
forraists.  Whether  such  a  measure  would  have  l>een  for  evil  or 
lur  gootl,  the  test  might  have  been  fixe«l  ut  the  |ioint  whii^h  Luid 

Ebury 


i 

I 

I 


TTu  Bicenlenary. 


261 


Elmrv  (lesirps,  without  much  danger  of  its  Wiiij;  sul»<^u(!iiily 
tniivtil.  Religious  divisions  were  much  more  sharnlv  uiurknl 
then,  ami  the  theological  area  coverml  I)y  each  religious  si^l  wiis 
much  more  easily  ascertained.  Dissent  was  confined  nithiii 
com|i«ratively  iiamm-  limits.  Tlu-  dispulants  were  not  so  nu- 
merous, nor  the  subjects  of  dispute  so  various.  The  main  body 
of  eontroversinlista  did  not  differ  either  concerning  tlie  funda- 
mental doctrines  of  ChrisliiUiity,  or  concerning  the  aulhurttv  of 
those  Apostolic  preachers  to  whose  teaching  all  controversies 
were  by  common  consent  referable.  That  strange  distinction 
between  'historical  Christianity*  and  non-htstorical  Christianity 
had  not  then  arisen.  There  were  Deists,  but  they  did  not  pre- 
tend to  be  Christians  ;  and  to  the  majority  of  them  religion  of 
any  kind  was  strange.  If  changes  had  been  made,  therefore,  it 
was  easy  to  measure  the  ejctent  to  which  those  cltanges  were  U* 
go.  So  long  as  the  demands  of  the  Calvioiats  were  accorded, 
there  would  have  been  few  other  claimants  of  importance  left 
to  satisfy.  We  are  now  living  in  very  different  times.  Erratic 
nnd  unquiet  intellects  do  not  now  concern  therosi'lves  with 
the  use  of  the  Cross  in  baptism,  nr  the  ring  in  marriage,  or 
the  posture  of  communicants  at  the  altar.  Tlie  questions  over 
which  the  abler  minds  of  our  age  arc  battling  take  a  far 
wider  range,  and  go  far  deeper  to  the  foundations  of  our 
faitli.  The  differences  of  opinion  among  those  who  call  tlieni- 
aelves  by  the  name  of  Christ  in  these  times  are  not  those  that 
could  I>e  satisfied  by  the  omission  of  a  rubric,  or  the  modi- 
lication  of  an  occasional  service.  VVc  have  but  just  emerge<l 
from  a  fierce  controversy  ;  but  it  has  not  been  upon  details  of 
posture  or  of  expression.  We  have  had  ecclesiastical  trials  umm 
disputed  dogmas,  and  rcdesiastical  censures  upon  heretics,  nut 
the  points  in  issue  have  Iii-en  of  ver)'  iliffrn-nl  iinporUuice  fmm 
those  which  Laiut  dealt  with  before  the  High  Commission,  or 
those  on  which  the  ejectetJ  of  1G62  refused  to  cont'urnj.  Lord 
Ebtiry  seems  to  have  liastily  assuinwl  that,  because  tlic  Prayer- 
book  was  the  stumbling-block  (hen,  it  must  also  be  the 
stumbling-liliK-k  now.  It  is  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the 
anachronism  of  his  pniposals,  that  while  he  is  asking  Parliament 
to  relieve  the  clergy  from  the  intolerable  burden  of  assenting  to 
the  Prayer-book,  all  the  recent  duclriunl  truils  have  nmtnlv  .'inscn 
out  of  alleged  (►fTi-nces  against  the  Articles.  He  has  to  deal  with 
iL  condition  of  Uie  intelleiluat  world  utu-rly  dilfercnt  from  that 
which  prevailetl  when  schemes  of  comprehension  were  mooted 
two  centuries  ago.  Men  who  claim  the  title  of  Clu'istians,  anti 
■who  have  every  right  to  it  so  far  as  purity  of  intention  and  holi- 
ness of  life  can  confer  it,  arc  scnitinixing,  witli  oo  partial   or 

tender 


26? 


The  liicmteitnrtf. 


tender  hnnd,  the  cardinal  iloctrincs  of  our  t'aitfa,  iind  the  ftiumla- 

I  tioiu  upon  which  the  Fatth  itself  rcnoses  ;  nnd  their  ipertilntinnt 

arc   cncouragwl   ralhrr    tlinn   n'strnined    b_v   tlir    tpmjMT    nf    thr 

gpn^rntion  in  wlnrli  tlipv  livi',      Kxtensivr  dislM'Itcf  ujhiii  pciints 

nf  vital   mniitml,  at  Ix-st  a   vngiif*iu*ss  niitl  suspension  of  conrtc- 

tinn,  i»  nt  tUr  jm-scnt  time  the  pruvailiiii*  tone  of  mind   ainonf^ 

too   many  of  the  most  thouplitful  and  the  inoit  moral   of  onr 

edui-atc<l  classes.       Intellectunlly   spending',  wo  lire    in  oiu>  of 

i'thnw;  porioils  of  anarchy   which  are   ihe  cimsonurnc*?  and  Uie 

[sure   punishment   of  n   imtIimI    <»f   civil    war.       Contmvrrsy   has 

■  ragetl  anum^'  ua  till  the  habit  of  submission  and  the  raparitv 
.for  cohesion  have  disappeared.      Upon  the   good   or  llie   evil  of 

diis  state  of  thin{<;s  it  is  not  here  our  province  to  cnlar|re.  Hot 
it  is  n  fact  which,  in  iliscu«sinjt;  a  legislative  intcrferriicw  with 
the  existing  fe«la  of  ortliodox  v,  it  is  impossible  to  ignore. 

Rut  l-ord  Eburv,  and   the   Ili<-entenarions  who  back  him,  niav 

[Kis«ibly  reply,  '  VVhai  it  all  this  to  us  ?     We  have  no  intention 

of  comprehending  these  freethinkers.     Too  many  are  compre- 

|hcndcd  already  for  our  taste.     It  is  only  the  orthodox  Diss-^nters 

■whom  we  desire  to  admit.'     It  is  perfectly  true  that  Lord  Lbury't 

■  latest  prD|H>ailion  affects  a  very  limited  boily  of  men.  It  docs  not 
propose  to  abolish  the  Prayer-book,  or  to  relieve  Oie  Clergv  from 
the  obligation  of  using  it.  That  proposition  was  nev€*r  submittal 
tt»  discussion.  He  only  proposes  to  release  them  from  the  necessitr 
of  declaring  their  assent  to  it  Consequently  he  will  only  relieve 
that  very  remarkable  class  whose  consciences  forbid  them  to 
pmftss  their  assent  to  Ihe  doctrines  contained  in  the  Prayer-liook, 
but  whose  consciences  do  not  forbid  them  lo  proclaim  those  doc- 
trines as  facts  in  an  address  to  Almighty  God.  For  tlie  (Tcdit 
of  human  nature,  wr  are  willing  to  believe  that  the  nunibc-r 
whom  his  proposal  would  admit  into  the  Church  is  very  small 
indeed:  but  the  question  is  not  who  will  W  admitted  by  his 
proposnls ;  but  whom  will  he  be  able  to  cxclnde,  when  once  Ihe 
question  of  readjusting  the  Church-tests  is  opened.  What 
ground  has  he  for  tlte  idea  that  those  who  are  aggne\Ttl  by  the 
Articles  will  be  silent,  when  those  who  nre  aggrieved  by  the 
Prayer-book  are  being  relieved?  Or  how  will  the  Parliament 
thai  has  yielded  to  the  one  class  protect  ilscif,  with  nnv  pretence 
of  fairnc?ss,  from  the  importunities  of  the  other?  There  is  a 
motley  throng  of  religionists  crowding  outside  the  door  of  the 
Church,  anxious  to  force  their  way  in,  in  order  to  divide  the 
tmtsture  which  is  stored  inside.  As  long  as  the  door  is  kept  shut, 
they  cannot  teach  even  the  smallest  objects  of  plunder.^  ^They 
have  ma<le  the  effort  recently,  with  at  first  some  prospect  of  suc- 
cess, and  have  been  in  the  end  bitterly  disappointed.     Bat  Lord 

Eburv 


1 


}>£ieeRUMtiy. 


2G3 


Eburj  has  two  or  three  frlcDils  amon|r  tho  throng  outside  whom 
he  is  very  atuiout  to  let  in  :  and,  therefore,  he  begf  to  be  allowed 
to  Qp*m  the  door  just  o  very  Utile.     But  he  is  extremely  eager  to 
conviaco  tlit'  stern  {guardians  of  the  door  timt  it  is  only  to  Ih> 
opeuotl  just  ajar,   ruiil    that   the   very   muineiit   his  friemls  Imvo 
I  slipped  in,  it  Khali   be  securely  closed  again.     The  only  question 
is  wliethcr  tlie  Socinians,  and  other  stalwart  sectaries  nehind, 
who  do  not  enjoy  tlir  advantage  of  Lord  Ebury's  friendship,  will 
allow  him  to  smuggle  in  his  own  friends,  and  then  patiently  st;intl 
perfectly  stiU  whiJo  he  slams  the  dor)r  back  in  their  faces.     Lord 
I  £bury,  whose  simplicity  is  as  confiding  as  lus  charity  is  amiable, 
' helieves  that  they  will.     \VV,  who  have  the  misfortune  to  take  n 
'  gloomier  ricw  of  mankind,  have,  on  the  contmr)*,  an  uneasy  sus- 
picion Uiat  they  will  not. 

As  his  Dicentenartan  friends  have  apparently  porsuaded  hwrl 
Kbury  that  this  enterprise  is  practicable,  let  us  Iook  for  a  moment 
at  the  conditions  it  rei|uires.  Refi»n>  he  can  persuade  Parliament 
to  accept  a  scheme  of  comprehension,  which  is  to  divide  the 
Dissenters  into  two  bixiies,  of  whom  one  shall  be  tiken  and  the 
other  left,  he  must  cither  point  out  to  it  some  sharp  nntnral  lino 
of  division  betwci'u  the  two,  upon  which  they  can  take  their  stand 
in  order  to  resist  further  change :  or  else  he  must  persuade  them  that 
[^those  whom  he  6nally  excludes  are  too  feeble  to  bo  troublrsiime, 
and  too  meek  to  avail  themselves  of  the  precedent  which  he  is 
creating  for  them.  The  Ixst  alu'niativc  may  clearly  be  put  aside 
at  once.  The  freethinkers  whom  he  would  exclpde  are  strong  in 
ability,  in  the  inilucnco  tliey  hnve  gained  with  a  certain  section 
of  the  educated  classes,  and  in  the  fact  that,  as  a  school,  ihey  are 

{oung  and   have   the  promise  of  the   future  before  them.     The 
Fuitarians,  with  whom  on  such  a  question  they  would  act,  also 
possess  a  strength  arising  from  social  position  and  ability  out  of 
^aLl  proportion  u>  their  numbers.     Tliey  would  never  moot  such  a 
,  question    of    themselves  :     without    assistance     they    would    be 
powerless  to  force  tlie  defences  of  the  Church  of  England.     Tlie 
Church  as  she  exists  is  a  very  difficult  thing  for  them  to  disturb. 
The  jjresent  tests — from  the  power  of  tradition,  from  the  force  ctf 
habit,  from  the  testimony  of  two  centuries'  experience  to  their 
.vise  adaptation  to  the  ]»oopIe  for  whom   they  were  framed,  from 
f the  association  aiKl  veneration  that  have  grown  up  aroumi  thrm, 
juul   from   the  great  men   who  have  devoted    themselves   to  her 
defence — have   a    strength    whicli,    (hey   well    know,    would    lie 
wanting  to  any  new  test     So  long  as  the  existing  formularies 
standing  by  the  right  of  a  long  prescription  are  lefl  untouched, 
Ltbey  may  be  content  to  acquiesce,     'iliey  may  not  care  to  light 
up  on  agitation  which  will  only  clear  the  ground  for  the*  Pm* 

tcstant 


S04^^^^r  ^^  Bicadenary. 

testant  Dissenters.  But  if  the  (luestion  is  hiiXy  upeticd  for  (lit* 
cuMion,  it  is  impossitilp  to  Ik-Iipvp  tlial  tlie^-  would  be  stIonL 
Thev  woulil  be  more  nr  less  tluin  men,  if,  wlien  llie  ^t»*  is  »>j»en, 
I  aitd  tli(!  oUirrs  nrr  pressing  in  for  n  f^(*neral  scnunbli',  they  should 
TnfusR  ia  rulKiw  aiid  cnjuy  tlicir  sliare. 

We  may  safely  assume  that,  when  once  altcmUnn  has  begun, 
Lonl  Eburv  will   not  be  suffered   in  ]>eact'  to  fix  it  precisely  at 
that  spcrini  point  wbicli  he,  in  his  wisduni,  has  selected  iis  the 
limit  r>r  ritnl    Chrislinuitv.      If  onlv  fur  tlieir  honour's  sake,  the 
swts  nhoin  he  cxrludes  will  not  l»e  ftjitisfiecl  to  allow  the  di»^^ce 
of  not  being  Christians  to  be  braniled  upon  thorn  formally  by  a 
new  derision  of  Parliament.     He  may  be  quite  sure  that,  if  he 
succeeds  in  paring  down  the  Prayer-book,  tlie  Artich*  will  not 
be  left  ntonc.     As  soon  as  the  Ha)>tist.  under  bis  protettion,  hiu 
begtu)  filing-  down  tlie  Baptinma]  wrvitres,  and  the  Prrsbyttrian 
is  working;  at  tlie  Ordinal,  and  all   XunconfovmisLs  lombineil 
are   engaged    in    taking    the    edge  nlT  the   Communion  seiTicc, 
others  equally  bent  upon  destruction   will  ruslt  upon  the  Kormu- 
Inries  wliich  they  hold  in  especial  horror.     The  Unitarian  will 
aim  a  blow  at  the  Article  which  afhrnis   the  Trinity,  and   tltn 
Article  which  affirms  the   Nicene   and  Athanasinn  n■«^e<is:  the 
Universallst  will  attack  tlie  Article  which  limits  salvation  to  the 
followers  of  Christ;  the  Germanize!  will   tail  upon  the  Artirlp 
which  recognises  tlie  anihority  of  Scripture.     The  question  then 
arises,  How  will  Lord  Ebury  and  (lie  party  of  comprehension 
deal  with  these  ynwrlc<nne  allies?     Wilt  they  be  able  to  suggest 
to  Parliament   anv  principle  upon  which  one  set  of  Oissentftr* 
can    be  comprehended,  and    the  other  set  of  Dissenters  can    be 
proscribed  ?    All  schemes  for  altering  the  Formularies  are  violent 
acts  of  power,  which  must  have  some  solid  intelligible  principle 
to  rest  on.     The  only  principle  applicable  to  the  present  day  is 
the  the<)ry  (hat  the    national  Church  should  Iw  coextensive  with 
the  national   belief.      If  comprehension    is   once   b^^n,  nn  dis- 
tinction can  bo  set  up,  no  lioundarv  can   be  tnicnfl,  by  which  any 
section  of  religionists  can  justly  be  roarkeil  off  from  the  rest, 
and  denlrtl  the  licneBtg  to  which  odiers  arc  admitted.      Kven  if 
sueh  a  line  of  demarcation  were  Justin  principle,  it  cimld  not  be 
drawn  in  practice.      We  have  not  a  few  sharjtly  defiiied  sects  \u 
deal  with.     T*he  area  of  thought  which  we  arc  asked  to  dividf* 
by  a  new  test  into  orthotiox  and  heterodox  is  a  vast  controversial 
zone,  stretching  from  the  very  verge  of  Komanism  on  one  side 
to  the  very  verge  of  Atheism  on  the  other,  and  coveretl  by  innu- 
merable grndatioiis   of  opinion    fading   into   each  otlier  bv  indis- 
tinguishable Khades.      If  Parliunient  wen-  a  council  of  Jnmiiesc 
Siiges,  untouched    by    the  controversial    ]KUisions  of  the  \\  est,  it 

could 


The  Bicentenary. 


265 


roold  nut  Uy  its  finger  uiion  tlie  point  wlicre  Chrialinnity  cmls, 
and  Infidolity  I)r<^ins.  But  consisting  as  it  docs  of  a  body  af 
men  intensely  iiitcrestmt  in  the  issues  on  which  these  questions 
torn,  and  deeply  tinged  with  the  inevitable  partisiinship  of  a 
controversinl  strug^k',  rtotliin);  short  of  n  rcvulutjun  couSd  force 
it  into  uprt-cinfr  upon  a  new  test. 

•  Even  if  a  new  te<it  werr  possible,  it  would  not  he  Corapreheu- 
non,  It  might  transfer  th(!  Church  property  into  new  hunds,  as 
was  done  by  the  Puritan  measures  of  1643;  but  it  would  not 
brinif  with  it  comprehension  in  any  sense,  because  it  would  expel 
as  nmny  Churchmen  of  the  old  pattern  as  it  would  manufuctun- 
of  th)'  new.  LonI  Ebury  is  obstinately  blind  to  the  fact  that,  in 
the  eyes  of  a  great  number  oi  persons,  the  cimi prehension  of 
error  implies  the  abandonment  of  truth.  There  are  theologians — 
though  Lord  Kbur^'  may  not  credit  the  fact. — who  think  that  some 
jwsitivc  statement  is  indispensable  in  a  profession  of  belief,  and 
who  would  distinctly  decline  to  belong  to  a  confession  that  con- 
fessetl  nothinjr.  VW  are  not  advancins;  a  doctrine — we  arc  simply 
sj»eaking  to  a  fact,  of  which  Lord  Kbury  may  convince  himself 
liy  procuring  an  invitation  to  nny  Kuridecanat  meeting  in  the 
countri-.  He  will  find  that  there  are  men  Jn  considerablenumbers 
who  would  deem  it  r  betrayal  of  Cliristian  truth  to  be  joined  to 
a  communion  in  which  the  Truth  is  treated  ns  an  open  question. 
If  he  neeils  pixxif,  he  will  find  it  in  the  indignation  which  has 
lieen  excited  among  the  clergy  by  the  Burials  Hill,  and  which 
has  forced  Sir  Morton  Feto  ignominiously  to  withdraw  it.  Tb« 
Bill  was  a  proposal  that,  under  certain  limitations,  the  chuich- 
yard  should  be  opened,  not  only,  as  lieretofore,  to  the  rolnistTs- 
tions  of  the  Church,  but  also  to  those  of  every  sect  of  Oissenters. 
From  the  rhur('h>-ard  to  the  rhurrh  is  of  rcnirse  hut  a  step  ;  and 
no  principle  cinild  lie  devised  tluit  should  admit  Disscntent  to 
the  one  and  yet  exclude  them  fmm  the  other.  The  Bill  did  not 
upon  our  churches  to  the  common  use  of  all  Dissenters  in  terms ; 
but  it  did  so  in  prinriple.  It  would  have  beeti  impossible^  after 
the  Bill  had  once  passed,  to  resist  further  change.  It  was,  in 
fad,  a  pni]Misal  of  Comprehension  on  n  grand  scale.  In  this 
light  the  <lergy  read  it ;  and  the  result  shows  how  any  jtroposaJs 
of  Comprehension  would  be  welcomed  by  them.  It  would  in  no 
way  have  intcrfcR-d  witli  their  ministmtioiis.  It  would  have 
bound  them  to  no  new  statement  of  belief,  and  to  no  new  eccle- 
siastical obligation.  It  would  only  have  admilled  ]>racticany 
that  other  doctrines  conflicting  with  theirs  might  iiossibly  be  as 
tme  :l8  theirs.  To  the  keen  comprehension  i  St  this  *  only*  may 
seem  a  small  matter.  But  it  has  not  seemed  so  to  them.  The 
feeling  which  was  produced  among  ihc  dcrgy  through  the  lengtli 

and 


I 


366 


77m  JJuxnteuajy. 


and  brmdtb  of  the  land  the  moment  that  this  fnir-tpoken  BUI 
tuued  from  the  Select  Coinmittee  excovdeil,  both  in  rapidity  and 
intensity,  ati^'thiii^  that  this  generation  has  yet  witnessed.  Their 
alarm  uptm  the  subject  of  church-rates  has  Iwen  a  mere  lethai^ 
compared  U>  tlie  indignation  evoked  by  this  foretaste  uf  Cuoipr^ 
hcnsini).  It  is  a  long  tliv  since  the  Idberal  members  connected 
H-iib  counties  or  rumL  boroughs  haTO  passed  such  an  evil  time  of 
it  The  petitions  that  have  been  sent  up^  in  an  astonislungly 
brief  s|>ace  of  time,  from  all  parts  of  f^n^lawt,  will  form  a, 
profitable  subject  of  meditation  for  those  who  think  that  a 
relaxation  of  tests  would  meet  with  that  ready  nrtpiiescenre 
whieb  is  indispensable  fur  its  success  as  a  measure  of  Compre- 
hension. It  is  of  course  open  to  Lord  tCbury  and  the  Liberals 
of  every  degree  to  vituiK'ratc  this  condition  of  mind  to  their 
hearts*  content;  but  wlien  tliey  liave  fully  relieved  tiieir  feeling* 
upim  tlie  subject,  tbe  fact  tliat  it  exists  will  still  confront  them. 
If  their  object  be,  as  tliev  profess,  not  to  transfer  the  endowmenta 
of  the  Church  of  Kngland  from  one  set  of  owners  to  another,  but 
simplv  to  enlarge  her  borders,  so  as  to  include  a  larger  body  uf 
believers,  this  stale  of  feeling,  which  they  appear  wholly  to 
ignore,  must  necpssarily  frustrate  their  endeavours.  Their 
measures  of  immprehension  are  necessarily  measures  of  exclusion 
also.  As  fa«t  as  their  relaxation  of  the  formularies  attracts  new 
members  of  ihe  Church  on  one  side,  the  denial  of  the  faith 
which  that  relaxation  is  supposed  to  involve  will  drive  the  old 
memlK-rs  out  of  it  Rt  tlie  other  side.  Their  task  is  the  task  of 
the  13Annid('S.  Tbe  stream  which  will  How  out  under  their 
bands  at  one  end  will  fully  equal  the  stream  they  are  labouring 
to  pour  in  at  the  other. 

We  may  safely  assume,  therefore,  that  the  construction  of  a 
new  test  is  an  impossibility.  A  Formula  CaneordirB  is  always 
a  perplexing  instrument  to  construct.  Even  when  it  is  only 
meant  to  eover  a  narrow  and  well-defined  area,  the  dltficulty  at 
finding  tlimlogiral  language  which  sliall  eliminate  that  which 
is  dtmdly  hemsy  in  tbe  eyes  of  one  party,  and  yet  s]iare  tlxat 
which  is  vital  truth  in  tlie  eyes  of  the  other,  is  well  nigh  insupet> 
able.  But  in  tlie  case  of  sects  which  differ  both  from  her  and 
fntm  each  other  so  widely  as  Uiosc  with  wliom  tbe  Church  of 
Kiiglnnd  is  now  enntenrling,  the  task  is  an  impossibility  in 
h'rms.  A  ni-w  trst  that  should  include  only  a  fraction  of  the 
sects  would  l>if  ri'sistrd  by  those  M-hom  it  would  exclude ;  and 
one  that  should  include  a  considerable  proportion  of  them  would 
be  impossible,  for  tbe  simple  reason  tltat  the  presence  of  each 
nihor  would  be  mutually  intolerable  to  alL  It  is  possible  to 
abide  by  the  present  tests,  which  recent  experience  has  laoght  lu 


I 

S 


A 


I 


The  JJifimtmarj/. 

go  at  least  aa  far  in  thr  nay  of  comprehension  as  it  is  possible  ^ 
to  go ;  but  no  change  can  be  mncle  in  them  wliich  shall  stop 
short  of  their  entire  abotition.  ^M 

It  is  to  this,  if  the  Comprehonsionists  succeed,  that  we  inusfc*^^ 
ineviL-ibty  come.  There  are  those  who  prufess  to  see  in  surh 
a  result  a  triumph  for  pure  religion.  They  imagine  tLal  the 
necessity  of  afireeinp  upon  some  common  belief  is  the  chief 
hindrance  to  the  growth  of  true  Christianity,  and  that  men  would 
struggle  more  heartily  to  prapagnte  the  G«»prl  if  every  one 
entertained  itnil  pn)f(«53ed  a  nifferent  ronreptjon  of  what  it  mRnnt. 
We  are  not  incline*!  to  assent  ti>  the  prnpositinn  that  faith  thrives 
liest  where  preaching  is  most  ronflirttne".  We  ahontd  rather 
point  to  the  cases  of  America  and  Geneva,  where  the  experiment 
lia»  been  extensively  tried,  as  tencl)ing^  a  very  different  lesson. 
Faith  has  ever  gn>wn  more  negative,  and  love  lins  e\'er  grown' 
moM'  r«>ld,  in  prnjwrtinn  as  divisinns  have  multiplied.  But  this 
riuestion  is  l>esiile  our  immediate  purpose.  We  are  at  present 
roncemwi  to  inquire,  how  the  position  of  the  (-hurch  as  an 
Establishment  would  be  aRected  bv  the  alxjlition  of  tests,  or  by 
a  relaxation  of  them  which  will  be  tantamount  to  abolition,  and 
ineritnbly  lead  tn  it.  Its  first  efTei't  must  be  to  eliminate  all 
spirtludl  religion  from  the  bmlv  which  has  been  subjecteti  to  ihc 
process.  No  Ixxly  uf  religious  men  ever  were  or  irvi-r  will  Im 
maintjiinwl  in  the  condition  which  the  Established  Church  would 
present  after  such  a  chnnge.  To  art  as  part  of  an  elnlxirate  reli- 
gions organization,  without  the  sliglitest  guarantee  that  those  wIk> 
lead  you,  «ir  those  who  are  working  at  your  side,  hove  one  siogliT  ^_ 
aim,  wish,  or  belief  in  common  with  you,  would  l>e  a  condition  of  ^M 
sustained  li^']»crisy  in  which  no  really  pious  or  earnest  spirit  could 
exist,  'I'he  first  effect  of  such  a  change  would  be  to  drive  off  all 
the  nobler  spirits  in  tlie  Church  to  join  some  religious  orcTinizn- 
tion  in  which  they  r(nild  nt  least  be  rerlnin  that  they  would  not 
be  countenancing  by  their  co-ttperation  the  projjagation  of  that 
which  ihey  count  as  deadly  heresv.  That  a  large  secession 
would  immediatelv  follow  upon  any  latitudinarian  relaxation  of 
tests,  no  one  who  knows  anything  of  the  clergy  could  entertain  a 
doubt.  Hut  what  will  linp[>en  to  the  eajnit  mortuvm  they  will 
leave  behind?  What  will  become  of  the  medley  of  religionists 
who  will  remain  in  unfastidious  complacency  b>  enjoy  the  good 
things  which  thetr  mure  scrupulous  brethren  have  nbaiHlonnl? 
Will  the  people  throng  affectionately  to  the  fabrics  which  hare  _ 
become  a  common  honso  of  call  to  twenty  different  sects  ? — or  ^| 
my  much  reven-nce  to  llie  pulpits  from  which  twenty  different 
Ivospels  are  preached?  And  what  will  be  tlie  political  strength 
of  a  body  of  men  whom  no  common  aims,  no  common  faith,  no 

common. 


£68 


Ute  Bicentenary, 


common  astociationft  bind  tog:etber?  \V']inl  support  will  the 
laity  accord  to  an  orfiranizatioii  wliich  exists,  not  for  the  purpnse 
of  prracliinff  a  dtTinitc  faith,  but  merely  for  the  pur^MJse  nf  rc- 
oeivinjr  revenues? 

There  can  lie  no  ([uestion  that  Mr,  Miall's  policy  is  far-«ghted 
and  wise.  Such  .in  agitation  as  that  which  this  Blrentenary 
inaufrurafs,  and  Lord  Ebury  consents  to  head,  will  do  his  work 
go  thunjughly  ttiat  even  Dr.  Foster  and  Mr.  Samuel  Morley  will 
not  be  able  to  sjwil  it.  When  once  tlic  Act  of  Uniformity  is 
gone,  his  enemy,  Uie  Established  Cliurch,  will  be  an  easy  pray. 
lie  will  have  little  need  tu  org.'uiize  an  agitation  when  the 
brotherh(KKl  which  makes  her  now  so  strong  shall  have  Iwcome 
a  r<)|>c  of  sand.  No  virulent  denunciations  will  be  required  to 
persuade  the  nation  into  contempt  of  a  State  miicliine,  constructed, 
not  to  proclaim  to  men  the  one  faith  once  deli%'ercd  to  the  saints, 
but  only  to  fulAl  a  function  of  police  by  inculcating^,  upin  the 
liosis  of  a  score  of  conflicting  Gospels,  the  virtues  which  poli- 
ticians value.  No  Liberation  Society  will  be  needed  to  free  tu 
from  such  a  curse  ns  that.  Wlicn  matters  have  come  to  that 
pass,  we  shall  ourselves  gladiv  join  with  Mr.  Miall  in  demanding 
the  alfolition  of  a  ('«>ntrivance  so  admirably  adapted  for  ciuench- 
ing  all  faith,  and  chilling  all  religion  nut  of  tlie  souls  of  men. 

It  is  imlispensable  for  their  security  that  Churchmen  should 
learn  to  recognise  the  dtange  that  lias  come  over  the  battle  they 
must  fight.  Durinfr  the  last  tliirty  or  forty  years  tlie  struggle 
has  beet!  a  simple  one.  The  existence  or  the  privileges  of  the 
I'jstalilislicd  Church  were  the  subject  matter  of  contest,  and  her 
frieiHU  and  her  enemies  were  tlie  comtKitantt  on  each  side.  In 
each  battle  that  she  losl^  she  was  compelled  to  renounce  some 
advantage  that  she  had  possessed  before ;  and  nothing  less  than 
her  existence  was  the  stakcof  the  war  in  which  she  was  rngaged. 
She  was  figliting  for  dear  life  with  iiiexomble  foes,  With  them 
it  was  a  wiu-  to  the  knife;  they  denounced  her  .is  *n  great  aristo- 
cratic iinpttstun- — :i  disgusting  pn-trncr — a,  falsehood  cloaked  in 
truth — a  life-tlestroying  U{)as.'  *  They  ])ainted  her  as  '  destroying 
mure  souls  than  she  saved.'  t  They  asked  whether  men  bad 
'cvpt  tiondered  on  the  practical  meaning  of  that  word — a  State 
Church?  Have  they  never  looked  into  the  dark,  polluted,  inner 
chamber  of  which  it  is  the  door?  Have  tlirv  never  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  lojithsomi-  things  that  live  and  cra%vl  and  gender 
e  ?  '  J  And  their  jwHcy  was  as  unsparing  as  their  language. 
They  aimed  avowedly  at  simple  exterminatioa      They  stiu- 


•  'XoMonfonniiirg  .*^kctct)  Book/  pp.  16,  M. 

t  'Briiisb  Chiircli«a  in  reUlioD  tu  (be  BrilUh  P«opl»,'  p.  350. 

J  *  Nonconfunniil'fl  Sketch  Rook,'  p,  16. 


« 


4 


I 


moniil 


The  ffic^ntetiari/. 


2(iii 


inttned — they  still  Butnmon — ronitd  thoir  stamlanl  scnikr  auxili- 
Bri*"*,  tempting'  tlipm  liy  tlip  rich  spi)il  tlir  f'liiirfh  nf  Knsrland 
nfTcTS ;  hut  it  is  ni>t  tlint  tliev  may  sliarc  the  |ihiiMlL>r.  Their 
principles  forbiil  thom  tii  di'sin;  any  '>r  it  l'«ir  their  own  !kmIv. 
j'hry  it«  not  seek  to  prnw  (m  upon  her  ruin,  Imt  only  to  brinf; 
her  down  to  n  level  with  themselves.  They  offer  her  property 
bt  the  Static — t*i  the  E<hirationists — ^to  the  LnniHorcU — tt»  any 
nnr,  in  fnii,  who  M'ill  niil  thrni  to  n-n-neh  it  mit  tif  their  givat 
rival's  huiiil.  Vvry  ilifTcrcnt  Is  the  policy  of  the  new  ant:i;;iini.<sts 
with  whom  she  is  confronted  ihiw.  TIk-  other  section  of  .\oii- 
cunlormists,  who  now  ap]>eiLr  to  be  o{>cninf^  their  trenches  against 
her  jwsitiun,  are  no  ways  disposed  to  so  thriftless  and  prodiKtit  n 
jtolicy,  Tlicy  do  not  wish  to  give  up  to  indiscriminate  pillage 
tt  land  (lowing  with  milk  and  honey.  Thev  are  too  anxious  Ut 
jKirtiike  of  the  vintage  to  dfsire  ti)  open  the  vinijyard  to  the 
trampling  hoof  of  the  secular  wild  lx*ar.  They  are  well  content 
that  a  certain  amount  of  property  should  be  set  apart  to  secure 
tlie  due  |K*rfonnanec*  nl  GtKrs  WOTship.  They  are  very  willing 
to  Hci|uieftcc  in  Uie  existing  state  of  things  with  a  very  slight 
modification.  They  have  no  conscientious  objections  to  an 
I^tablishment.  The  only  change  they  woold  suggest  is,  that 
they  sltould  be  the  Kstttblifthment  themselves.  Their  object  is 
not  to  tlestroy,  but  simply  to  transfer.  Consequently,  tliougfa 
they  arc  obliged  to  act  with  him,  they  look  on  Mr.  Miall  simply 
an  a  niarploL  His  violi-ut  opinions  may  M-reek  tlie  cause  of 
Kstablislunents  allogedier  before  the  gratifying  change  they  con- 
template can  be  eflectetl.  Thev  are  compcltetl  to  accept  his  aid, 
hecn.use  they  wish  to  frighten  the  Church  into  concession ;  bet  they 
would  deplore  his  success  as  hcortily  as  any.  Their  sptx-ches  arc 
full  of  pmfessions  of  good-will  to  tlie  Established  Cliureii ;  and  if 
they  taunt  her  ocensionally,  it  is  not  Ix-cauw  she  is  an  EstablishrrI 
Church,  but  only  because  she  is  *  bigoted  and  exclusive.'  In  fact, 
they  arc  decidedly  tender  to  her;  tliough  it  resembles  more 
closely  a  lover's  tenderness  towards  a  we-ilthy  heiress,  or  an 
epicure's  tenderness  towards  his  dinner,  than  any  other  fimn  of 
that  emotion.  Whatever  its  genuine  meaning,  it  is  much  plea- 
santer  to  deal  with  thim  the  fulminations  of  Mr.  Miall,  if  only 
for  Its  superifir  jMiliteness  and  good  taste.  But  their  antagonism, 
whether  lliey  mean  it  or  not,  is  not  tlie  less  real,  and  not  the  less 
deadly.  On  the  ctmtrary,  they  arc  in  truth  far  the  most  dan- 
gerous  assailants  of  tlie  two.  One  attacks  only  the  temporal 
riccidents,  the  other  the  spiritual  essence  of  her  ilianu'tcr.  Mr. 
^tiaIl,  if  lie  were  successful,  W4inld  destroy  our  n-ligifins  rom- 
munity  as  an  l'>stahli.shment :  l^>rd  Khury  would,  though  he 
means  it  not,  inevitably  tlestnty  it  as  a  Cfaurcli.    Mr.  Miall  would 

lake 


270  7%«  Bwmtenary. 

take  from  the  Chnrch  of  England  the  sinews  of  the  spiritual  war 
Lord  Ebuiy  would  stifle  within  her  the  very  life  on  which  her  powers 
depend,  if  she  were  stripped  of  all  her  wealth,  she  still  would 
preach  the  Gospel  that  has  been  committed  to  her,  though  within 
narrower  limits  and  with  feebler  powers.  But  when  she  has 
been  deprived  <^  that  definite  faith,  by  and  for  which  she  lives, 
there  will  be  disseminated  in  her  name  merely  a  mass  of  con- 
flicting dogmas,  breathing  into  the  soul  the  ineradicable  doubt 
whether  Truth  exists  at  all.  This  is  the  new  peril  which  this 
new  agitation  against  the  Act  of  Uniformity  opens  to  our  view ; 
and  all  that  we  have  hitherto  stniggled  to  avert  dwindles  into 
insignificance  by  its  side. 


Art. 


(  T  E  livre  que  le  Iccteur  a  «ou»  Ics  yeux  ea  ce  moment,  c'est" 


4 


{Kun  Ixmt  u  I'autrc,  dans  son  ensemble  ct  dans  ses  dctaiU, 
quelles  que  soient  ios  iritcruiitteiiLxs,  Ics  exceptions  ou  lea  dcfail- 
lnncc»,  la  niaretie  du  mal  an  bien,  dc  Tinjuste  au  juste,  da  fai 
an  vniy  de  la  nuit  au  juur,  de  I'appctit  a  la  conscience,  de 
pouirilure  k  la  vie,  de  la  bestialitc  au  devoir,  de  I'eni'er  au  ciel 
du  ncant  ji  Dieu.    Puint de  depart :  la  matierc;— point  d'arriveej 
rame.      L'hydre  an  commencement,  I'ange  a  la  fin.*"     Sucli  are 
the   words   in  wliirh  M.  Victor  Hugo  incidentally  sets  forth  thu 
pitli    and   i^ist  of  tiic   ten   volumes  Ix-fore   uh.     Stninge  words, 
indeed,  to  come  from  the  pen  of  a  Frtmch  novelist  uniler  the 
Second  Empire;  and  all  tlie  more  strange  because,  we  are  thank- 
ful to  say,  they  convey  m>  vain  boast.     They  are   in  the  mai^H 
true.      It  was  observed  bv  I-'tdy  Mary  VVoitley  \ftmtagii,  that  tl^| 
make  the   monils   of  her  contemponirles  squari;  with  the  enaL-t- 
ments  of  the  Divine    law,  the   printers  of  the  13ook  of  Commoik 
I'raycr  ought  in  future  ti>  omit  all  tlu;  nf>ts  in  the  Decalo;fUf. 
like  manner  it  might  be  said,  that  if  at  each  clause  of  the  passaj 
quoted   above  you  were   to  insert  a  uot — or,  in  other  words, 
you  were  to  read  the  passage  backwards — yon  would  not  in  tli< 
slig:htcst  degree  overstate  the  'marche'  whicJi  French  fiction  has 
taken  during  the  last  ten  years.      Proud  as  the  TliinI  Naiiolea^ 
may  be  of  die  masterly  manner  in  which  his  Parisian  edilily  (o 
the  French   newspapers  t(;rm    it)  have   ruled   out  the  rapital    !l 
streets  as  straight  (ami  we  might  add,  as  stiff  and  unpicturesqui' 
as  the  lines  in  a  schoolboy's  copybook;  bright  as  may  be 
lustre  which  he  believes  himself  to  have  thrown  over  France 
thp  less  pracefid  triumphs  nf  Magenta  and   Sidferino  with  whJcli 
he  has  saddled  the  gmtiluile  uf  Italy  ;   it  will  be  a  grave  (unissio^H 
on  the  jKtrt  of  his  histoiuui  if  he  omit  to  notice  that  while  b^| 
emiiellished  the  streets  of  Paris  with  marble  and  mortar,  his  era 
enervated  the  minds  of  il^  inhabitauts  wiUi  a  HtcnUure  as  Tdtliy. 
as  frivolous,  and  as  falsi-  as  ever  supjicd  the  morals  uf  a  natlu 
or  made  the  fortune  uf  a  publisher.     Such  works  as  *  Madam 


lOlk 

I 


\o\.\\'2,—No,224. 


*  Vol.  \x.  r.  aw. 

T 


B( 


Bovary,'  as  '  Fann}/  '  Daniel'  et  Compagnie,  rearliing  as  they 
liavc  <lonc,  some  of  them,  a  l)onJi  (ide  twcntipth  cilitiua,  jumI 
(Ir.ig^ging'  in  their  trail  the  (h'tjiiU  i»f  a  mMlical  troiitiw*  on  the 
neniius  tliseasrs  of  women,  iKiiMmrd  by  the  iia&tJDess  of  a  pm- 
riont  mind  and  set  out  with  all  the  artifice  of  a  shuwv  jH-n,  ore 
not  so  much  outrages  on  decency  as  si^s  of  the  timt-s  amid 
whicli  tlipy  crawled  out  nf  the  dunghill — their  uuthurs  brains— 
tx>  bask  tht'iruM-'lvrs  in  the  sunny  ctiilaye  of  the  Rue  Vivienne  or 
of  the  Kuf>  dc  la  Pais,  of  a  Levy  ur  an  AniToL  Shut  out  from 
all  the  inestimable  benefits  which  jKtUtical  life  confers,  taught 
to  believe  meaowhilc  tliat  in  order  to  have  the  full  use  of  liberty- 
ihey  must  leaiu  not  to  abuse  it — which  sounds  like  telling  a  man 
tbat  t4i  get  the  use  of  his  liiubs  he  must  never  stir  but  in  a  Bath 
chair — Frenchmen  hare  allowed  tlicmsclves  to  seek  el&evhere  for 
some  substitute  for  that  healthy  excitement  and  play  of  mind 
which  they  can  no  longer  fiud  in  the  field  of  {Ktlttics:  we  might 
!idd,  which  they  no  longer  seek.  Drowned  in  tlie  Ijeastly  sinks 
of  sensuality,  zealous  for  nothing  unlets  it  \ye  coU'  a  fa  Houne., 
the  mind  of  France  is  only  n.>scued  frnm  that  imtat  fatal  disease, 
|ioIitical  apathy,  by  the  vigorous  etforts  of  tltosc  faithful  few,  the 
B^ov)(oi  in  the  rnoe  after  everjthing  which  constitutrs  the  lughcr 
life  of  man,  who,  from  tlie  Avcntinc  of  a  tligiiifted  Secession, 
jimtest  against  the  retgn  of  a  coarse  inateriali$ni,  and  sustain,  ia 
all  their  forre  and  beauty,  the  traditions  of  tmo  of  tlic  noblest 
bodies  of  Utcratute  that  ever  weddt^^  h>ft^  tlioughts  to  words  that 
burn.* 

Considered,  tlien,  with  reference  to  the  works  nf  fiction  wltich 
have  caused  the  greatest  *fureur'  in  France  during  the  last  teu 
years,  this  new  novel  of  Victor  IIu<;o's,  cont-eived  us  it  is  in  the 
spirit  which  its  author  jusiIy  vindicates  for  it  in  the  words  w4iich 

*  Frau  the  siricturca  is  wh'ujli  wf  hsre  hem  indulged  aa  the  light  lilenuare  of 
Pmacc.  it  would  bi-  »n  onpspdonaXile  omiisiou  not  to  f  x«pt  the  chsnaiBg  llttK-  works 
of  M-  J.  T.  (1«  St.  ti«riiuiia — a  pMudonym  of  o  ttery  tmiHpveat  clianwtrr  ii  snjr 
oD«  wtio  bai  ever  ttiKJ  hvtota  Ua  vjcs  llie  IxKiks  on  which  it  fipiras.  A  vrilcr  ia  th» 
•BtttunJay  Review"  (Sept.  iifl,_  !»«■/>,  ia  ipeaking  of  the  ilifficolty  which  Frsod) 
wTiNm  teen  to  experieocv  '  in  writing  wuh  success  ou  the  >ido  of  virtue,'  sad  tt 
the  (^ilJlity  of  that  ■peeics  of  waniitig  which  i»  Ixuvd  on  the  exaaiple  of  niwnialiMi 
a»d  tnonttraoB  foJIv,  rigfailv  iul<Ii.,  Dial  ■  thi-  hi-M  device  of  the  iostroctivv  ooveliit 
it  lo  sketch  an  idedl,  In  kindle  or  fwtcr  the  better  fttlJucs  of  reader*  by  io« 
spiria^  noiiou*  of  Mincthing  parer,  nohtn-,  and  better  tlaii  themselvrs.*  Aneb  is 
ibe  ufa}eot  which  U.  J.  T.  de  St.  Genaain  has  nropoud  to  himself  in  the*  I^Egtnda 
pour  une  Kpi&gle,'  in  '^ligiiou,'  la  'Lady  Clare,'  mud  in '  Four  Furveaii.'ftc. 
Vol  that  the  roortUty  ii  offcMivcly  uhtnided:  it  sHk'h  twtnnilly  oiu  nf  the 
incidents  n-lntt-d— it  ia  put  forth,  not  pot  on.  To  iho*^  who  hnv*  ^xporieneed  Ae 
difficulty  of  inLt-iiog  with  l>ouks  auwug  the  ciimmt  works  ol'  Fivticb  tictioD  wbidi 
ittsy  aucly  Iw  Ic/l  JmiU,  awd  are  ni  adapted  vinjinilMu  purvu^utf  aa  for  lUe  ripar 
tasieof  anorcadrsneediige,  it  amy  be  nucfnl  10  he  farolthed  with  the  titles  of 
tilt  shore  worln.  whieh  Id  Prance  at  lesit  have  net  with  a.  mcens,  Ini  uoiay 
iadeed,  but  loarcely  leu  aabttaBtial,  thaa  that  of  their  impure  rivals. 

ve 


4 
I 


L«*  Mh^Tohia. 


fl7» 


wc  have  placed  at  ihe  head  of  tliis  artirlr,  is  a  moat  welcome  and 
nolcwortliy  exception.  Occasional  crossness  of  expicssinn  iu-> 
dcTit  too  frequently  escapes  him,  but  there  is  Dothing  thjkt 
bewrays  impurity  of  thought.  The  genius  of  the  poet  aiwl  the 
miiul  of  the  man  have  both  of  them  been  of  too  high  on  onler  to 
«tDt)p  to  such  lewdness,  consciously  and  lovinti^ly  cnressed,  a» 
•eems  to  allure  the  readers  and  to  absorb  the  miiuls  of  a  Flaubert 
and  a  Feydeau.  To  what  purpose,  indeed,  is  Poesy  a  '  winged 
thing/  as  Plato  calls  it,  if  it  do  ucit  raise  it»elf  above  the  dirt 
and  dust  oF  the  earth  earthy,  and  become  n  *sursuin  cordik*  tc» 
the  world? 

Hitherto  we  have  allowed  M.  Victor  Hugo  to  give  his  owaj 
Tcrshin  of  the  general  tendencies  of  '  Les  Mis^BABLES,'  and  thim 
with  the  view  of  jKiinting  out  in  limtJtfi  the  exceptional  pisitina 
which  he  so  honourably  holds  in  the  Kn-iK-h  litfrnturt*  of  the  day. 
Wn  must  now,  however,  look  more  closely  into  llu^  mutter,  and 
furnish  the  reader  with  such  details  as  mav  give  him  a  more 
accurate  idea  of  tlie  scope  of  the  work,  the  nature  of  tbc  stor^-, 
ami  the  merits  of  the  style. 

Fir>tl,   theu,  as  to   the   material   bulk    and   formal  division  of 
•Les  Miserable*/     It  consists  of  ten  volumra,  divided   into  five 
parts  of  two  volumes  each.     These  five  parts  bear  succcisively 
and    respectivelv    the    following    de»iguations  : — 1.    Fastine  ;' 
IL  Cowktte;    Ul.  MAHiirs;   IV'.  L'iuym.e  Ri  e   Plumut   et 
L*fepop£B  Kl'k  St.  Denib;  V.  Jban  Vaueax.    Kach  '  part*  again 
is  divide<l  into  ei<;lit  or  mure  '■  bo<iks,'  aud  each  '  btiok  '  into 
chapters,  ami  to  the  chapters  are  affixed  headings,  selected  -ippa- , 
rentiv  for  the   purpose  of  giving  the  n-ader  the  sraalleitt  p*>S-'(iblo^ 
idea  of  iho  nature  of  the  t-nntenls.      The   far-letL-hed  nmci-iuii 
whifli  M.  Hugo  here   imlulges  lietray   lui   amount  of  afTeclatiui^j 
scari-cly  comintiblc  with  good  taste.     The  4000  pages,  in  roi 
numbers,  of  which  the  ten  volumes  (UtusacIs  e<)ition^  consist^ 
would  make  about  131X*  pages  of  the  same  type  as  the  *Quart(*rly 
Review/ 

It  is  not,  we  believe,  very  gcnorotly  known  that  '  Les  Mis 
rabies '  is  the  work  of  two  writers — the  one  a  poet,  the  other  a 
ivstem-monger ;  the  one  richly  endowed  with  feeling*  of  the 
highest  order,  which  come  to  him  as  naturally  as  instincts  (and 
herein  i*  he  a  poet):  the  other  sentcntiuusly  parading  the  rrudest 
notions,  the  profiiict  of  no  thought^  the  result  of  no  expcrienre,  as 
the  very  foiimhitiou!!  of  Law  aud  Order,  as  the  oidy  conditions 
jm  wliich  the  happiness  of  a  nation  can  be  secured,  aD<l  tlic 
tory  over  Sin  and    Misery  completed.     T\ic  one  great  on  tho 

lallcst   theme— the  gambf>ls  of  an  infant  ;   the  ulhia'  small  on 
the  greatest  theme — ihc  relation  of  the  Individual  to  the  Slate, 

T  2  ^Vk^ 


274  LaMiahmUa. 


mI  'ill  iiiMliliiw  iif  ilii  ffTii^miBi  riiri  TUs  fitensj  pnt- 
■ER^ip  kas  heeM  iMiilaiiiii  mT  aD  Ae  MJKfcirf  «Uck  »^l>  br 
gxpwIiMl  frsHi  Ar  eDdaboEttisa  of  two  waidi  cf  ■•  ofpaaiit  a 
c^vacter.  k  is  wiC  a^  Aat  «c  ve  'wilili>i  to  k  &r  tihr 
■ActMB  of  aesiiT  oae  AoosaBd  pages  of  di^ma^  wilk  vUck 
wt  caaU  wefl  Wyv  ^f  »|^  ■— I,  bat  tfaeac  iij^ii  wiiMi  wax  Ae 
■■acigj*  br  iiiiia|iliiij^  tbe  k«)uct>  oI*  fbe  rtofr,  vbiek  Acj  do 
■wbiae  to  drrdope.  snd  crgmbMg  to  Rtud.  Sv  gicat,  iadgfd, 
Mtfe  i^aiT  vkicb  tbeaocaJ  aod  political  qvack  baBCkae  to  bis 
oiOoi^wp  tbe  port,  dot  bjdt  cdtics  bave  Ina  tlnm^  it  vosld 
•eaHi,«tf  Aeaeeot;  bsTc  facn  omfale  toresoito  tbat  ibicad  of  tbr 
■Corr  wbicb  tbcse  iirtnBumble  epuodkal  cbsts  aie  rm  break- 
mt-  avd  bare  dus  denied  to  Victor  Haso  the  poet  Aat  aitisdc 
dkin  of  whicb  Victor  Hngo  tbr  f|s>ck  faas  dooe  9q  mark  to  Husk 
die  ^tmnAaa  aad  to  niar  tbe  eflect.  It  -wSX  be  our  endeaToor  la 
tbe  MA0mia^  remarks  to  elijninale  as  far  as  anr  be  tbe  dxnstroos 
results  vbicb  bare  enmed  from  tbis  mdDvanl  coUaboiatiaa  of 
two  nneqnal  wits  lodged  imdcr  one  cianiiim.  We  dnll  auke  it 
*mf  borioess,  br  a  searching  analjsis  of  tbe  two  fint  ndmnes  (for 
it  is  in  tbem  tbat  the  kernel  of  tbe  imt  is  to  be  found  i,  to  nnqiheie 
Ae  ^nrit  vbicb  bas  presided  otct  tbe  coocepticm  of  tbe  entire 
work.  We  sball  tbns  be  enaUed  to  disentangle  tbe  idea,  wliicb, 
in  spite  of  all  nnseemiT  obstructions,  does,  in  fact,  knit  togetber 
die  diflerent  ports  of  *  Les  ^liserables,*  and  so  to  rindicate  that 
artistic  power  to  which  ^'ictor  Hago's  critics  baxe  done  sacb 
scanty  justice.  This  more  searching-  analysis  completed,  we 
sfaall  fiAUfW  it  np  br  a  hastr  summair  of  the  sequel  <^  tbe  storr. 
soflicient  to  bring  oat  the  *  contmsus  partium  '  of  which  we  shall 
preri/itulT  have  fnnushed  the  key.  We  shall  then  ofler  some 
remarks  on  other  portioas  of  the  work  which  seem  to  call  for 
flp«rial  cpnsare  or  special  praise,  as  the  case  may  be. 

^Ve  think  it  will  be  seen  on  tbe  whole  that,  amid  all  its  defects, 
this  Wfrrk  has  something  more  than  the  besnties  of  an  exquisite 
■tylfr,  and  the  *  word-compelling '  power  of  a  litenrr  Zens,  to. 
recommfrnrJ  it  to  the  tender  care  of  a  distant  posteritr :  that  in 
dealing  with  all  the  emotions,  passions,  doubte,  fear^  which  go 
to  make  op  oar  common  humanity,  M,  Victor  Hago  has  stamped 
upon  every  page  the  hall-mark  of  genins,  and  the  lo\~insr  patience 
and  conscientious  labonr  of  a  true  artist.  We  sit  here  as  utterlv 
dispassionate  judges.  Unlike  his  own  countrymen,  we  have  no 
personal  pique  against  the  author,  no  old  scores  to  pay  ofT,  no 
literary  coterie  to  serve,  no  political  principles  to  denounce,  no 
bngbear  of  socialism  to  defy.  We  approach  M.  Victor  Hugo, 
indeed,  with  all  the  tenderness  which  is  due  to  an  exile,  and  with 
all  the  respect  which  is  due  to  a  man  of  genius — Solcm  quis. 

dicere 


Zcjr  MitendtUs. 


975 


tlinrrc  falsum — hut  Ijeyoml  that,  it  18  needless  to  assure  M.  Victor 
Hugv>  that  wo  have  no  purpOHO  tii  sen*e  hut  that  of  saying  with 
all  frankness  what  we  think  n{  this  im|>ortnnt  addition  to  a 
literatun^  of  wliich  we  are  ever  anxious  to  hail  the  glory,  anil  to 
deplore  the  ih'cav. 

llie  work  o)){>ns  with  a  lii^hly-fintslied  portrait  of  a  Christian 
bishop.  Nothing  seems  so  much  to  have  exns|HTate(l  M.  Hugo's 
hostile  critics  as  his  audacity  in  attenipliit^such  a  portrait.  The 
so-called  religious  party  seem  to  consider  he  is  poachiniEr  ud  their 
preserves,  and  we  doubt  not  would  iiifiiiilely  have  preferred  that 
ne  should  have  pointed  the  finiJ^er  uf  scorn  ttoth  at  Bishops 
ami  at  Christianity.  The  [Hrrtrait,  we  may  remark,  is  generally 
believed  to  be  more  or  less  Irom  the  life,  and  to  refer  to 
Monseig^neur  Miollis.*  He  resides  in  the  episcopal  town — but 
not  in  the  episcojinl  palace,  which  he  has  given  up  as  a  haspitnl, 
making  tlieuld  hospital  hts  palace — with  his  sister.  Mademoiselle 
Bzptistinc,  and  his  old  servant^  Madame  Ma^lotre.  Mademoi- 
selle Baptistinc  is  thus  beautifully  described  in  language  which 
it  is  iiujKJssible  lo  translate: — 

'KUc  i-tait  tiQc  perfioiuit)  longno,  p£le,  mince,  douce  ;  ello  Tcalisoit 
rid('-al  de  co  qn'crpriino  lo  mot  "  respectablo  ;"  car  il  somble  qn'il  soil 
ndccasaire  qu'mio  fenuuo  Boit  mi'-ro  punr  etni  TvUL-ruble.  GUe  n'avait 
juiuui  He  jolio  ;  toiito  sa  Tie,  qai  n  avait  6ti>  qu'mto  saite  do  saintes 
ffiOTTOB,  avail  iini  par  mettro  mir  elle  uue  aorU  d*i  blauoheor  si  de 
ciaTti: ;  et,  en  vieUimant,  die  avalt  gtigni  ce  gu'on  poHrrait  ofpder  la 
beauU  de  ia  bonU.  Ce  qui  arait  etu  de  la  maigreur  dans  8a  jvonesao 
^itait  dovunu,  dims  sa  matarite,  do  la  trunsparonco ;  et  cette  diaphaneiU* 
laisKait  voir  I'ango.  C'Otait  uno  I'lme  plus  encore  que  oe  n  T-tait  nnu 
ricrgc.     ^  pcrsonne  semblait  faiio  d'ombrc ;  s  peine  osaez  do  corps 

Sour  qu'il  y  eut  U  uu  scxc ;  uu  p«u  du  matiLre  conterutut  uno  Incur : 
u  gntndff  yeiix  toi^oura  baiss^ :  un  pr<!-tcxto  pour  qu'tmu  Aiuu  rcste 
sur  hi  tcrro,*— (i.  p.  11.) 

The  words  we  have  placed  in  italics  remind  us  of  what  it 
undoubtedly  true,  that  ohl  age,  so  it  be  found  in  the  way  uf 
righteousness,  gives  to  the  features  a  beauty  not  their  own.  If 
*he  motions  of  the  mind  be  goo<l,  the  lines  of  the  face  will  but 
become  mure  and  more  lieautiful  as  time  wears,  and  as  the  uiore 
sensuous  beauty  wanes. 

The   life  and  coarenation  of  the  good  Bishop — whom  the 


*  Cbsrics  Praa^U  Melcbior  Bicnrvna  Itlipllis,  fonnerly  BUhop  of  Dicne.  in 
ProTCTBcc.  This  prelstc  wnt  born  at  Aix  in  tliv  ^ear  I7&3,  sn^l  wiw  Dixie  Uiihcp 
of  Digiie  in  iso^i,  sn  oBoe  which  he  tdornrd  witli  linplc,  nncwii^tutiuuk  virtuM 
till  ttiu  itifiriuitivs  of  age  Bade  him  resisa  in  1838,  five  years  l>«fi>rr  his  daih. 
His  rrtcnds  and  ndminTs  hsTv  not  been  mow  to  protvit  agmiul  tlio  lii«ton«al  Bub- 
ftrstnm  irK\t\t  th^  mithor  of  *  Ijcc  MWrablrs ^ would  hare  bis  readers  suppose 
ooderlies  the  porlrail  of  the  Bubop  of  th«  story. 

people 


276  Let  MuhaUa. 

people  cslled  Monseigneor  Bienrcnn,  cfaoodng'  fnim  ln>  noBie- 
rons  Chrudan  names  *(xlu  qni  leor  preHnbut  on  aens* — mre 
described  at  great  length  by  M.  Hnga     The  notion  that  Ae  por- 
tnit  is  in  part  6om  the  li£^  seems  to  be  wartanted  br  these 
words  (p.  25) : — *  Nous  ne  pretendoos  pas  que  le  portrait  qae 
nous  biaoDM  id  sent  TraisemUable :  noos  no«i  boraons  k  dire 
qn'il  est  ressemUant*     It  is  not  without  a   pwpose  that  these 
details  and  ti^t*  of  characto'  arc  given  widi  such  (nhiesa.    They 
prepare  ns  for  the  crownii^  act  of  what  we  sbonld  call  Chiistiaa 
lornig-kindness,  if  we  had  not  some  scruples  abo«t  (mdos  &anda, 
which  forms  the  taming^point  in  the   career,  and   eflects  die 
convenion — and  what  is  coorersion  bet  a  taming  ? — of  tbe  real 
hero  of  the   novel,   the  coDTict   Jean  Valjean.      Some   of  die 
Bishop's  mctM  are  worth  quoting.      A   popnlar  pveacfaer  in  a 
iharity  sermon  had  drawn  a  picture  so  awful  of  die  tonnents  uf 
hdl,  and  so  glowing  of  die  bliss  of  Paradise,  that  a  stingr  old 
miser,  who  had  made  a  mint  of  money  in  busiiiess  and  had  never 
faeen  known  to  give  a  larthing  in  alms,  from  that  dav  forward 
gave  a  sou  every  Sunday  to  the  poor  at  tbe  door  of  the  Cathedral. 
*  Uu  jour  I'eveque  le  vit  faisant  sa  charite,  ct  dit  a  sa  sceur  avec 
on  sonrire :  Voila  Monsieur  Gebtnaud  qui  achete  pour  nn  son  de 
paradis.'     Or  take  the  following  retort  to  an  equally  stii^y  old 
Marquis  whom  the  Bidiop  dunned  for  alms  : — *  f  Mcmsiemr  fte 
Marquis,  il  iaut  que  vons  roe  donniez  quelqne  chose."     Le  Mar- 
quis se   retoama   et   r^pondit    sechement — *' Monseigneur,  j'ai 
mes     pauvres,"       "  Donnez-Ies    moi,"    dit    Teveque '     (p.    37). 
Equally  happy  is  the  following : — A  poor  woman  was  arrested 
for  issuing  false   coin,  of  which  the  man  she  lived  with  was 
suspected  to  be  the  foi^r.     Nothing  would  make  the  woman 
confess ;  so  the  Procurenr  du  Roi  hit  upon  the  device  of  laving 
before  die  woman  some  fragments  of  letters,  not  less  foiged  than 
the   coin,  which   professed   to  show  that  she  had   a  rival.      In  a. 
frenzy  of  jealousy  she  denounced  her  lover.  '  L'eveque  ccoutait  tout 
cela  en  silence.     Quand  ce  fut  tini  il  demanda :  "  Ou  jugera-t-cm 
cet  bomme  et  cette  femme?" — "A  la  cour  d'assises."     II  re- 
prit: — "  Et  ou  jugera-t-on  Monsieur  le  Procnreur  du    Roi?"' 
(p.  42.)    Iliis  anecdote  is  immediately  followed  by  one  of  a  man 
condemned  to  death,  which  seems  on  the  face  of  it  to  be  very 
absurd.     But  we  can  understand  why  M.  Victor  Hugo  has  forced 
it  into  his  narrative.     We  all  know  that  punishment  by  death  is 
a  practice  to  which  the  author  of  die  '  Dernier  Jour  d'un  Con- 
damne '  entertains  the  most  rooted  aversifMi.     On  the  propriety 
of  this  aversion  we  offer  no  opinion.      We  can  only  say  with 
Alphonse  Karr — *  Du  moment  que  MessieoTs  les  assassins  veul«Qt 
bien  commencer.'     Be  this  as  it  may,  the  cure  is  represented  as 

saying. 


saving,  when  sammonpd  tn  the  side  of  the  prison  pallrt^  that  it  ts 
m  afmir  of  his,  nnd   the  liis>hnp  as  n>jiitning, — ' "  Mnnsieur  le 
CUr6  a  raison.     Cc  u'est  pas  sa  place,  c*e«t  la  miennp."  '      Now 
fvery  reader  of  common  sense  aud  fcclini^  roust  be  awnre,  that 
for  any  minister  of  any  irlipon  in  the  woild  to  have  mftde  such 
an  answer  M  that,  is  an  itnprnbnhilily  so  irmss,  that  if  it  ever  liad 
happened!    in  fart^  it  shimhl  have  brH>ii  kept  nut  of  thr  jta^r-s  of 
fiction.      Uut  uur  autlmr  had    no  other  wav  of  introducinff  an        i 
ekHjueat  di-nuuciation  of  tiie  puilloline  : — 'Ce  spectre  (]ui  semhlc  ^M 
rivre    d'une    e&piK-c    de    vie    epouvantable    I'aitc    de    toute    la  ^^ 
mort  qu'il  a  donmie'  Tp.  47).     Wc  canuot  refrnin  fn>m  quotinii: 
one  njorc  of  the  n-partres  of  MunsL-ipieur  Bienvcnn.      lie  had    h 
been  c-anie»tly  but  vaiuly  urf^d  uot  to  visit  one  of  the  sinaUest  of  ^M 
his  parishes,  situated  among:  tl»e  mo-.mlains,  which  at  tliat  time  were   ~ 
infected   by  banditti  who  Imd  i-ubl»d  a  neig^hbourintr  cathcHiral. 
The  Rishop  |>crsisted  in  goin;^  on  his  ntule  with  no  escort  but  an 
urchin  to  act  os  "juidc.      Onoe  there,  he  desired  the  cure  to  jfi%'e 
notice  tliat  a  pontifical  moss  would  be  celebratiHl.     Hut  what  was 
to  be  done  for  epi!ico[>al  ve-Stmentu  ?      '  '*lla]i!"  said  tlie  Iti&hop; 
"ccla  s'aiTaojTcra." '     Meanwhile  a   trunk  was  left  at  the  //rr#- 
bjfth'C  by  tno  unknown  hor^^'men,  which  was  found  to  contain  all 
the  vestments  stoh'U   fntni    the   cnlhedml,  nnd  a  ptccf   of  jiaper 
witli  lliese  wonls: — '  Crartitte  a  Monxeiffiirur  Hiernvnu,'  Cravaite 
boinf^  the  name  of  the  captain  of  the   bimdilti.     lliereujMm  the 
Bishop  remarked,  '"A  qui  se  eontcnte  d'un  surplis  <lc  cure, 
Dion   mvoic  une  chape  <i'arrbnvtN:]uc.'* — *•  Miinw-iyni^nr,"'  mur- 
muru  le  cure  en  htK-hant  la  tett-  nvec  un  sourin*,  "  Dieu — oti  le 


et 


repnt 


Bvec 


diablr  V ''      LVvriiue    ri'ganla    6xement    le    cure 
auloiili^ — "  Dieu. ' ' — p.  71*. 

\V"e  pass  on  to  Chapter  X.,  which  contains  one  of  Hk-  pramlest 
■ccnes  in  die  whole  work.  It  descril>es  an  interview  between  tbe 
Ilishop  nnd  n  dying  Convent ionnel,  who  had  all  but  voted  tbe 
death  of  the  King;  a  iiuasi-regricide  in  short  Our  liuiits  will 
not  admit  of  our  dwelling^  on  this  triumph  of  dramatic  jxiwer, 
which,  after  all,  is  only  a  Lors-d'ccuvrc,  but  we  may  mejiiiou  one 
or  two  ol  the  in<i8t  striking  [toints  in  the  dialot;tte.  The  Conven- 
tionnp]  liad  contendeil  that  to  kill  Louis  XVII.  fiir  Iiping-  the 
f^jit-grandson  of  Louis  XV.  was  not  a  hit  more  unjust  than  to 
kill  young  Cartouche  solely  because  he  was  brother  of  the  robbv 
of  that  name.  '  *'  Monsieur,"  dit  Tcveque,  *'je  n'aime  pas  res  rap- 
prochcmpnts  de  noms,"  '  The  dvinp  man  replit-s,  '  *'  ('ailoucJie  ? 
Louis  XV'.  ?  jK>ur  Inpiiil  des  di*ui  reclamez-vous?"  '  (p.  llti.) 
The  ilishop  mutters  sumetlung  about  '1*3.  Tlie  Convent  it  tnocl 
drew  himself  up  as  far  as  his  stiffening  limln  would  allow  htm  to 
do  w>,  and  exclaimed,  '  '*  Ah!  vous  y  voila,  '^3.     J'attendnis  ce 

iiuit-Iii. 


* 


d 


mot-Ik.  Un  nua^  s*(*t  fonnc  pendant  qainxe  cents  am.  Av 
boat  de  quiaze  siecles,  il  a  rreve,  Vuus  fattrs  le  procn  an 
coop  de  tnnnerre."  *  Th*-  llUhup  n-tums  to  ihe  ciiar^  : — '  "  Qor 
pmSfTZ-vaus  tlr  Marat  batUut  d»  mains  a  la  ^illotine?'**  Bot 
die  n-tort  is  not  alow.  "  '  Que  penscz-rous  de  Bossoet  cbaatent 
le  7>  Deian  nir  Jcs  dni^nnadcs  ?  ** '  Tlu*  BUbop,  detennioKt  oo 
the  one  liand  lo  recognisse  wbatcvcr  of  good  etistrd  in  the 
world,  and  furj^ct  tlic  evil,  and,  uu  the  otiier,  awed  iutu  chaiitjr 
tn  till;  near  advent  uf  the  olil  Conrcntionnel's  deatL,  could  ddC 
refrain  from  answering  tbc  question  *  Qu'cst  cc  que  roas  renes 
me  dcmaDder?'  with  the  words  *  Votrc  bcne<)ictioci.'  Tbc  fact, 
however,  of  his  having  held  any  intercourse  at  all  with  ooe  0!" 
the  sons  of  BcUn),  gave  rise  to  some  obloqnv  in  the  little  roteries 
of  tlie  place.  But  the  Bisliop  was  armed  at  all  points.  *  Un  jour 
one  douairiere  dc  la  vari'^U  impertinente  tjai  se  croit  spirihteile^  lai 
adrena  cctte  saillie  —  "  Monsei^eur,  on  deroandc  quand  Votw 
Grandeur  aura  lclK>naet  rouge." — -"Oh!  oh!  voila  unegroaaecoo- 
leur,"  rcpondit  I'eveque.  *'  Hcureusement  que  ccux  qui  la  mepri* 
sent  danK  un  bonnet  la  vi:ntiret)t  dans  un  chapeau"  '  (p,  130).  A 
chapter  on  the  political  opinions  of  the  Bishop — more  Koralist 
than  IinptTialist,  more  Ultramoiitiuie  than  Gallican- — is  followed 
bv  one  011  his  'solitude,*  which  gives  rise  to  some  sarcastic,  ami 
withal  humorous,  remarks  on  tlie  pushiii^;,  srlifiiiinK  clergy,  wba 
buaz  about  the  palace  of  a  worldly,  iulluentiul  Bishop, 
latter — *  Sachant  prier  sans  doute,  mats  sachant  aussl  soUiciter 
has  always  at  liis  back,  and  oftencr  at  bis  feel,  a  herd  of  bustliofr, 
fawning  salellii<-s,  who  would  fniii  ke<']>  pacr  M'lth  the  Sun  of  the 
system,  and  be  lifted  along  with  him  into  the  high  places  of  the 
earth.  *  Plus  grand  ditKcse  nu  patron,  plus  grosse  cure  au 
favor!.'  Home,  too,  crowns  the  vista.  '  I>c  la  Grandeur  h 
rEmiDcnce  il  n'y  a  qu'un  pas,  ct  cntrc  I'EmiiicDce  ct  la  Sainiete 
il  n'y  a  que  la  fume'e  d'un  scrulin.  Toutc  calotte  peut  rever  Ib 
tiarc,'  No  nuch  cntiiuragc  as  this,  however,  (locked  round  the 
humble  dwelling  of  the  unaspiring  Monseigncur  Birnvenu.  *  l'a» 
une  ambition  en  herbc  ne  faisajt  la  folic  de  vcrdir  a  son  umhre,' 
The  whole  <il  this  most  humorous  jxissage  is  wound  up  bf  the 
following  eliMjuerit  nnathtrina  un  Success,  whii-h  we  quote  in  full. 
It  is  only  by  such  (juotatious,  full  or  partial,  a  jiage  or  a  phrase, 
that  we  can  enable  the  reader  to  form  any  idea  of  the  wonderful 
mastery  of  language,  and  vigour  of  style,  which  are  to  be  found 
in  the  pages  of  *  Les  Mis<iniblcs,'  as  in  everything  wliich  V'ictor 
Hugo  has  writlea  All  French  writers  uf  mark  arc  divisible 
into  two  schools:  the  one  is  characterized  by  the  polish  and 
BmiM>thness  to  which  the  Komance  element  is  carried  in  a  Hacine, 
more  modem  times,  a  Lamarttnc :  the  other  is  full  of  the 

rie 


wnu 

limr.^ 


X«>«  Mit^&les, 


279 


vicl  esprit  Gaulou,  a  Molifer*?  ur  n  La  Fontaine,  For  ilih  rugged 
force  of  speech,  all  knots,  the  bark  stilf  on,  M.  Hugo  is  very 
retnarkablD.  The  terseness  with  which  he  throws  into  a  word 
the  cuinpressed  power  which  a  feebler  but  more  clrgnnl  writer 
■would  draw  out  into  a  w1m)Ic  sentence,  indieates  an  niiiount  of 
genius  wliich  belongs  onlj*  to  the  kingUcr  spirits  of  an  agp,  and 
which  in  French  literature  has  only  been  matched  by  Kahclais; 
in  Italian  by  Dante.  The  great  epoch  which  Boileau's  famous 
*'  Enfin  Malherbc  ^'iiit  *  was  intemlcil  to  hcmld  in,  derived  its 
importance  from  the  fact  that  Malherbe  went  into  the  hi^^hways 
am)  byways  of  the  people,  and  revived  the  old  *  esprit  (iaulnis,' 
which  had  been  almost  stifled  beneath  the  ponderou*  roller  with 
which  Ronsard  smoothed  the  trim  lawn  of  tlic  French  language. 
MalhiTlje  dug  lo  the  r*Hits  ;  went  buck  to  the  familiar  words  of 
the  people,  and  the  fresh-turned  earth  bore  fruit  a  humlrr-dfulfl  in 
some  of  the  choicest  works  of  the  great  writiTS  of  France.  We 
shall  be  panloncfl  this  diprssion,  for  it  will  help  the  reader  to 
understand  the  position  which  Victor  Hugo,  with  Michelet  by 
Ills  side,  occupies  in  the  literature  of  France.  We  now  proc-ecd 
with  our  (|Uotatii)n.  The  verv  wonls  of  our  atitlior,  whose  force 
oar  own  translation  can  but  faintly  convey,  will  be  found  below.* 

'  Success,  wo  may  suy  m  piuwing,  is  a  hideous  aiViiir  tiuough.  IVTen 
are  taken  in  by  its  spiu-ions  resembluice  to  merit.  In  Ihn  eyea  nf  tho 
mtiltitudo,  to  get  on  hae  much  the  same  profiU  as  to  ho  ftbaolotcly  the 

*  '&)it  dit  en  pDfisant,  c'est  une  chose  sews  htdeusc  qii«  Ic  succ^  Sa  fiiaue 
resseiubliiaoe  vtee  \e  iiu-Hte  tromi>c  lea  hommes.  Pour  In  foulc,  la  T^urite  a 
prcsQue  U  iDume^rolU  ouc  la  supTvmxti«,  L«  tuecii.  ««  M^«chin«  da  Udent,  a 
un«uu|te:  rhi&loLiv.  Jiivt.-iiiil  ol  Tacitv  sculsm  bofujoaavnt.  Do dos  joiirs,  noa 
philosophic  It  pea  pr^s  officiell«  m  cninf«  eo  dontnudtj  cbei  Itii,  poric  la  ItTn<e 
«1«  sii«ce«,  «t  fail  1«  Mrvice  dv  Mn  »ii(i-c>uuubr«.  R^oSiitses:  Uieoric.  Proqxfritc 
sofpoM  cspacitii.  Gsgiim  k  U.  Kxerie,  tuus  vuiA  ua  babilfl  bamiie.  Qui  triooiphe 
est  vm^rc.  Nai»i-a  roifli^I  lout  csl  lit.  Ayt-x  ilc  la  chanoe,  voas  aaraz  le  natei 
vyjtt  hraroux,  on  toiu  croirs  Rfaod.  Ea  dehors  dcs  cinq  oq  riz  cxceptloiu  Im- 
mnaea  qni  font  Teclat  dun  bu'c1i%  I'adiuiratiou  conteioponaiM  a'cst  picrv  aut 
mjropie.  Oorure  est  or,  Ktre  Ik  premier  rrau,  cela  aa  |{Ale  rieii,  puur\ii  qu  oo 
MHt  le  inrvfnn.  Ix^  vulgaire  est  ua  vi>;iix  Nardno  qui  a'adore  lui-mi'iii<:  et 
^ui  upplaudii  le  vul^ire.  Cetta  fkcnltc  (.-DoriDc,  par  laqnttl«  on  e»t  Motse, 
Bschylr.  l>aatc,  MkhcI-ADgc,  on  Napolean,  la  multitadv  lad^cerue  d'eiubl<^ct 
par  aodanutioD  k  <^uicoDqu«  alteint  son  but  daas  quoi  qa«  ce  aoit.  Qu'un  notatre 
tt  Uansfigun  ea  dvpui^,  qu'un  fanx  Comcille  fiusc  Tu-ii/tti;  qu'un  cuuuqui-  par- 
vienoa  k  poac&lw  un  liurvtn,  qu'uD  Prudbommc  militaifv  gagn«  par  accident  la 
hUtilU  drasiTa  d'ajif  L-potjne,  qu'un  apolhioairv  invratc  lea  Hmdiea  de  caitoa 
pour  I'arm^  de  ^nibrt:-«t-Mi;tue,  et  te  coostnuse,  avec  ce  carton  v^ndu  pour  du 
cair.  quatre  wot  inille  livrva  de  rente,  qu'un  porte*bal)c  vjKitue  Tu^ure  «t  la  fttta 
ne«oticlii-r  de  acpt  it  hnit  millii^na,  dont  U  art  le  p2re  ei  doai  rlli-  eai  la  nuirc,  qu'uo 
f>t^dicat4Mir  di-viennC!  uTi!-qu«  par  Iff  nit*ill«in«nt,  qu'un  iiileudaut  dv  Iwnne  maison 
aoil  li  rtcbe  eu  sortsm  de  service  •ju'od  Id  tatsv  luiiiUlip  dc«  &uan<^«,  lc»  boninci 
BB|wllent  ceta  Rcuie,  dc  mAmo  qu'ih  a[ipellt?u[  Ik^ute  la  figarv  dv  Mousqaeton  ct 
Slajesttf  r«neolure  de  Claude,  lit  coufondutii  awe  lea  eonitellaiioas  dr  I'shfine 
Jm  ^toilss  que  lout  dans  la  vaao  molls  du  buurbier  In  pnttcs  des  caaanls,' — (p.  147.) 

best. 


I^et  Afiscrables. 


BaccMB,  thiit  HcDCchmof  of  Ulcnt,  has  oii«  dupe :  hieitorT. 

[.^nveiul  and  Tacitus  kre'tbe  otily  ouc«  wlio  kick  kt  it.     Ill  tlw  prMeot 

%y  it  keeps  nt  ibi  buck  u  kind  <jf  ufficial  pliilasopltj,  which  WMUS  tlie 

liveij  of  succcHg  and  doncca  attendonoe  in  iU  antochunlitT.     G«t  on  : 

id  vhat  follovg  i    To  ha  in  clover  is  to  he  dcrcr.     Ton  win  at  • 

itAfsry,  Aitd  you  are  set  donn  as  an  able  man.     It  is  the  winner  who  is 

t  wuraUipixjd.     Be  Ijoni  with  a  Bilvcr  Rpoon,  and  your  fortimo'B  made. 

I  iHuve  but  luck,  and  the  rest  won't  lag  behind.     Be  but  fortunate,  and 

|;l}vn  will  be  thonght  groat.      With  ^ve  or  six  immenge  oxceptioiu, 

we  the  ^oty  of  on  Hgo,  tho  udmiration  of  ooflAentpoianes  is 

bvere  weakness  of  sight.     GUding  goes  for  gold.     Wbere  yea  oonie 

l^from,  uutUini  nothing  :  whore  yon  get  to,  is  all  in  all.     The  rolgor  is 

l«n  eidcxly  Nareisstia,  in  love  with  himself  and  applauding  what  is 

Those  &caltse«  a(  enormous  power,  by  virtac  <*f  which  & 

18  a  Moses,  an  JEIschylus,  a  Bauta,  a  Hicbaol  Angelo,  or  ft 

1  Napoleon,  are  awardnd  by  the  ninltitode,  "at  one  gn  "  and  by  aiudip 

tion,  to  any  odo  who  make*  a  good  hit  in  no  matter  what.     Tjot  an 

krAttomey  torn  himself  into  a  Deputy*,  iv  sham    Conieille   writo  ft 

l^riilatfx,  a  umtDoh  boeonia  {HmtuiHsor  of  a  honsn,  n  mililAty  Pmdbomma 

gain  by  accident  the  decisive  buttle  of  the  day,  nn  npotliccary  iuTODt 

,  aoles  of  pasteboard  for  tho  army  of  SambrC'Ct-Uenfie,  and  with  tlus 

^' ]iaittuboanI  whic^   lie  sell*   for  loathor  malcti   himaolf  lui   income  of 

400,000  francs,  lat  a  man  with  a  pack  on  lus  back  take  Unary  to  wife 

and  bring  her  to  bed  of  seven  or  eight  millions,  of  which  he  is  tbo 

r&tber  and  she  tho  mother,  lot «.  preecber  whine  hiuRoIf  into  a  bishop, 

^let  tho  otoword  of  a  well-to-do  family  be  so  rich  on  leaving  his  plooe 

as  to  be  made  Minister  of  Finances, — men  give  all  this  the  name  of 

'  Genins,  just  as  thoy  give  the  uome  of  Bounty  lu  tLu  face  of  Moosquo- 

ton,  and  that  of  Majesty  to  tlie  nock  and  sIiouldcrH  nf  Cltiudi-.     Titoy 

mistake  for  the  stan  of  the  firmiunent,  the  splays  which  a  duck  nukes 

08  it  jMuldJes  about  in  the  soft  mod  of  a  boggy  groDnd.* 

Wo  have  now  M-rn  wliat  mnnncr  of  man  this  Cljnrlns  Franijois 
Hiciivcim  MyricI,  Bishop  iif  I).,  was;  nncl  the  rt>adrr  will  jiro- 
bably  agree  with  Victor  Hugo  in  ilit;  i-emark :  '  Comme  on  voil, 
il  avait  une  manicrc  ctrangc  ct  k  lui  de  jugvr  les  choan.*  We 
must  leave  it  to  him  to  judge  -whetLer  our  author's  solution  of 
these  ts:c(>ntricities  is  »uc  wbirh  <-ommcn(I<i  itself  lo  )iis  nccrpt- 
ftnce.  *  Je  S(ni|M;oiine  qu'il  nvntt  jtris  cela  dans  D'lvnngilo/ 
(pi.  41.)  Those  who  consider  that  such  ecopntricities  are  matter 
cither  of  ridicule  or  of  <:en$urc  may  rest  assured  tliat  we  are 
nndrr  no  immediate  danfrer  of  seeing  our  own  bishopi  foUovr  in 
the  footstqiB  of  MonselgneuT  Mvrtel. 

A  new  character  inrw  makes  his  appearance  in  our  story,  fjtrly 
in  Octoljer,  in  the  ^■ear  1H1.5,  just  l>efor<>  sunwt,  there  entered  Uw 
episcopal  town  of  D,  a  wayfarer  of  most  unprrpossesidng  aapert,  as 
may  be  iufen'cd  from  tlie  folNtning  giaphic  description  of  him  :— 

*  It  would  hare  been  difficult  to  meet  with  a  person  of  more 

wrotchod 


4 


4 
I 


A 


Im*  Mito'ra&ie*. 

wretched  aspect.  He  vras  a  miui  of  miildlo  height,  (hick  nt,  and 
strongly  mndo,  rimI  in  tho  pi-irao  of  nunbood.  Uo  miglit  h«  {nxm. 
forty-«ix  to  fort^-oight  Toars  of  ago,  Tho  Irathtrn  Wzdf  «f  hin 
cop  came  duvi-ii  and  partly  liiJ  a  face  bui-Qt  with  gon  oud  heat  and 
gtreuuiug  vitli  pcrspinitioa.  A  shirt  of  coarse  ycUow  cloth,  fastened 
to  tLc  neck  by  a  lituo  silver  imchor,  dibjilaycd  to  view  a  hairy  liusoin ; 
biB  iii.>ckcIoth  tvns  twisted  liku  a  ro|io,  hiti  truiistirB  were  of  blue  coatil, 
worn  and  tluviulharc,  white  at  one  knco,  in  holes  at  tho  other ;  he  bad 
on  a  grey  blon£e  tiil  iu  raf^,  i>atcliod  at  one  clbon-  with  a  piece  of 
green  cloth  sown  on  with  utrins  :  on  hitf  back  a  soldiers  knapwwk, 
quite  fnll,  m3ll-Hlnij>p<^  and  ptu-footly  new — in  hiit  band  an  oUurmooB 
knotty  iitticic;  his  Rtookiuglcsj  foot  in  iron-bcnind  sbooe,  iaa  head 
Bhaved,  and  hia  beard  long/ 

Such  was  Jean  Vnljcan,  the  son  of  Jeanne  Mnthieu  (this  name 
is  ol  iuiiwriiince)  and  (►f  Jean  Veiljcan,  a  wouUcuttrr  at  Fave- 
ToUes.  He  luul  lost  his  Tather  and  mother  when  a  child,  and  as 
he  grew  up  carried  on  his  fnthor's  craft  in  support  of  an  <--ldcr 
sister,  left  a  widow  with  sewn  children.  lie  liad  rcacherl  his 
twent)-fttth  yenr,  when  a  hard  winter,  no  work,  famine  at  the 
doOTf  and  despair  in  the  heart,  drove  him  one  night  to  break 
into  a  baker's  shop  to  steal  a  loaf  for  the  starving  children  at 
home.  This  was  in  I  7i)5.  He  was  condemned  to  five  years  at 
the  galleys  for  tliis  act  of  *  vol  .irec  ofTraction.*  Four  times  had 
he  maile  fruitless  eiHloavours  to  escape,  ami  had  only  brought 
Xi\ioa  himself  fourteen  years  more  of  the  galleys.  And  now, 
after  nineteen  years  of  hard  1nt»iitir,  the  lilK-ratrd  convict  enters 
the  small  town  in  tlie  plight  above  described,  in  quest  of  IkhI 
and  Ixtanl.  He  is  tossed  from  pillar  ti>  jtost.  'I  he  inn,  the 
public-huuse,  the  cottage,  ay !  and  the  ver}'  dc^-kcnuel,  deny 
shelter  to  this  pariah  of  civilisntiuu.  *Je  ne  suis  |>as  mcme  ua 
chien  ] '  he  exclaims  in  de&|iair.  He  goes  outside  the  town  into 
the  tie  his ;  bat  even  nature  frowns  on  him;  the  louring  sky 
urarns  him  to  rctm'ii  once  more  into  the  town.  He  lavs  himself 
down  on  a  scone  seat  near  the  church.  He  is  accosted  by  an  old 
Wly,  who  asks  him  why  he  has  not  got  him  a  bed.  He  tolls 
her  that  no  one  will  have  anything  to  say  to  him.  *Have  you 
tried  there  ? '  she  said,  piloting  to  the  good  Itishop's  house. 
'No,'  was  the  reply.  'Try  then,'  she  iays.  Among  other 
eccentricities  of  Mooseigneur  Bien\*enu  wc  have  omitted  to 
mention  his  practice  of  alivays  leaving  his  house-door  on  tlie 
latch.  This  door  opened  into  the  niom  where  he  dined.  He 
was  that  evening  on  the  |KiiiiT  of  sitting  down  to  supper  M'lten 
the  door  wns  thrown  o|ieii,  and,  much  to  the  dismay  of  Madame 
Maghiire,  who  had  just  been  beseeching  the  Bishop  to  let  her 
frtcli  the  blacksmith,  and  put  a  lock  on  the  door,  as  a  very  sus- 
picious 


4 


Ltt  MiMtrahici. 


I  IHCtoiii  cfattiarter  Lad  beeu  seen  aboat  tlie  strrcu,  in  walkM  tbr 
[object  of  her  fean,  Jean  ^'aljean.  Without  waiting  to  br 
'•cvovtetl,  ht  blarts  out  in  harried  arcmts,  as  if  stting  brdnpair, 

•  brief  ftatement  as  to  wliat  he-  is  and  what  he  wants, — a  Iibciatnl 
cimrtct,  dTing   of  Lon^pr,    wean'  witb   Biti^ne.     The  statnnntt 

|d)ciu  no  rejutniler  but  this:  *  Madame  Maflmre,  dit  IcTeqae, 
t  Tous  tnettTFZ  un  coorert  dc  pins.*  *  Are  yoa  draf  ?  *  exclaims  the 
amazed  Jean  Valjean  ;  *did  roa  hear  me  sav  I  was  a  ronriL-t? 
Lotik,  Itere  is  mv  vellnw  {wssport !  its  roUmr  tolls  it&  nwu  tale.* 
But  the  impa&sible  Bi&hup  onlj'  resumes :  '  Madame  Magloire, 
vfnis  mettrez  des  draps  blaacs  au  lit  de  ralcore/  The  two 
women  stare,  bat  ubej'.     The  man  is  beside  himself  with  Joy  : 

*  It  y  a  dix-neuf  ans  que  Jl*  n'ai  cuudic  dans  un  liL  .  .  .  Voos 
etc*  un  brave  horome:  vous  etes  aubergUte,  n'est-ce  pas?'  '  Je 
Hiii,  dit  I'eveque,  un  prctre,  qui  demeurc  ici.'  *Tirn&,  c'est  ttu  ; 
que  je  suis  bete !  je  n'arais  pas  wx  votre  calotte.'  The  whole 
scene  is  fall  of  power.  The  fatted  calf  is  killed.  Tlie  siUtT 
csndlestickB  arc  brought  from  the  Bishop's  bedroom,  as  on  state 
(xrasions;  with  them  the  six  silrer  spoons  and  forks,  which 
constituted  the  episcopal  K»/ii)Xta.  Not  »  word  is  said  bj 
tlie  Bishop  to  recall  the  unhappy  I'ast  of  his  jfuest,  whom  be 
nlwavs  acrosts  as  *  Monsieur.'  BefUimc  approaches.  Candle 
in  lianJ,  the  Bishop  sLuws  bis  guest  into  his  room.  The  way  to 
it  lay  tlirough  his  own,  All  is  quiet ;  all  but  the  brain  of  Jean 
Valjean.  *  Que  s*etatt-il  passe  dons  cette  ame  ?  *  Tlie  answer  to 
this  inquiry  is  contained  in  tfiat  wonderful  chapter  entitled 
■* Lc  dedans  du  desespojr,'  a  manel  of  psycbolo^cal  analysis, 
ruuclied  in  language  of  which  the  force  and  beauty  »>  carr^'  us 
away  that  we  have  nu  time  to  be  out  of  patience  with  the  author 
for  railing  at  what  he  calls  *  la  socictd  *  as  the  cause  of  alt  this 
evil ;  abuse  which  waxes  stiM  stronger  in  the  wonderful  chapter 
which  follows — '  L'omle  et  Tombre  ' — so  Dantesque  in  concep- 
tion, so  full  of  a  weird-like  grandeur  in  execution.  After  this 
insight  into  what  is  fermenting  in  the  soul  uf  Jean  Valjean,  we 
are  not  surprised  at  the  sequel.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  he 
gets  up,  and  in  a  moment  of  wild  impulse  straU  the  spoons  from 
the  cupbiHird  over  the  Bishop's  bed,  and  escapes  through  the 
garden.  The  account  of  the  robbery  is  extremely  grand.  How 
beautiful  this  description  of  the  det^ping  Bishop,  with  the  mocm- 
light  casting  a  sort  of  nimbus  round  his  head  ! — 

*  Yon  moon  in  tho  hcavuna,  yon  peaccfid  landscRpo,  that  gaidon 
whcru  not  a  leaf  was  Btirriog,  that  dwelling  so  calm,  the  hour  of  the 
night,  the  moment,  tho  silonce,  added  something  solemn,  and  which  no 
lugttage  can  deaoribc,  to  tht<  vDUurmhlc  re[iaM;  of  ynndor  man,  and 
inrested  with  majee^  and  serenity,  aa  with  a  glorj,  thoeo  white  looks. 


< 


4 


I 


Lts  Mit^rabUs, 


283 


I 


Aod  thoK)  sealed  oycs,  that  fac«  Trhore  all  wa»  hopo  And  uU  waa 
oonfidiDguoiiS,  (hat  head  of  Ago  and  that  Bleep  of  InfHacy.' 

In  the  morning  Jean  Valjean  is  caugbt,  aiul  brought  Ijnck  by 
the  gendarmes  to  the  IJtshop's  Iinuse.  He  feels  read)'  tu  drop 
with  surprise  wh^n  tlie  Bishop  .isks  him  whv  he  had  nut  taken 
the  candlesticks  as  well  as  the  spoons :  *  he  lind  ^iven  him  both ;  he 
must  take  ihem  with  him  now.*  The  gendanncs  leave  the  house, 
and  JpJtn  Valjran  follnws  with  the  candlesticks  under  his  arm.  ^| 
As  he  fitajTcers  away  he  hnnrs  ringing  in  his  astonished  ears  (he  ^ 
Bishop's  ))arting  words :  *Jean  Valjean,  moti  fr^re,  vous  n'ap- 
partenez  plus  au  nial,  mais  au  bicn.  CcstTotrcame  que  je  vous 
aclH'(<? ;  jc  la  retire  aux  prnsc'cs  noires,  et  a  I'esprit  dc  perdition, 
et  je  la  donne  a  nimi.' — p.  301.  Jean  Valjran  roams  tlirough 
fields  ami  Innes,  without  knowing  ivliere  he  is  gnjng ;  steals  a 
little  Kavoj-ard's  two-franc  piece  almoat  without  km>wing  what  he  is 
doing.  He  is,  as  it  were,  divided  against  bimsclf.  'Comme 
unc  ehouetti'  qui  verrait  brusquement  m  lever  le  sr>leil,  le  fun^t 
avait  ete  ebK>ui  et  coinme  aveugle  [»ar  la  vcrtu."  Tlie  cnmmotioit 
within  him  wimld  have  been  less  wiKl  if  tlur  gendarmes  had 
simplv  put  him  once  more  in  durance  vile.  Do  what  he  would, 
he  could  not  efface  the  touch  of  the  Bishop's  band  on  his  arm,  or 
drown  the  sound  of  the  Bishop's  words  in  his  ears.  It  was  a 
presence  not  to  lie  put  by.  It  haunted  him  :  it  possessed  him.  It 
scared  him  into  virtue.  It  set-up  against  the  Jean  \'aljean  thai 
was,  a  Jean  Valjean  that  might  be.  His  mind  kept  gazing  first 
oil  one.  then  on  the  other :  the  figure  of  the  Bishop  Hitting 
between  the  two.  He  looked  with  dismay  at  the  Fast ;  not 
wliolly  without  hope  at  the  Future.  At  length  he  wept.  The 
eyes  which  for  nineteen  long  years  of  agony  had  not  known  a. 
tear  now  slrenmod  apace  with  all  the  weakness  of  a  woman,  and 
all  tlic  terror  of  a  child  :  — 

*  How  tnany  boors  did  he  woep  thus  ?  Alter  weeping  what  did  ha 
do  'i  Where  did  ho  go  'i  Was  thi8  never  known  ?  All  wd  can  say  for 
certain  is  that  on  that  Home  night  the  currier,  who  at  that  timo  went 

%a  GrcDoLIc  and  back,  and  reached  B at  three  o'clock  in  the 

moming,  as  he  went  through  tlie  Itno  de  rEvi'chu  saw  a  man  kneeling 
UU  the  ground,  in  tho  shadt-,  oppositu  the  door  of  Monseiguour 
Bieureua,  imd  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,' 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  wo  have  devoted  a  space  at  all 
disproportiouatc  to  this  first  volume  Of  the  long  epic — for  the 
novel  is  the  mwlcni  epic — which  has  to  unrol  itself  before  us. 
Il  is  this  earlier  portion  which  gives  the  keynoti*  to  the  whole; 
it  is  here,  too,  we  may  ubsurvu,  tliat  our  auUior  has  put  forth  his 
greatest  strength.     Critics  have  prated  much  abuut  the  want  uf 

.  unity, 


Z«  dHshvbles. 


aaitv  in  the  work,  aod  have  atigtimtised  it  as  a  mere  congi^Ipt  of 
cpiKKl*^.  Thev  bavc  not  teen,  or  have  been  slow  tnackimwIiMlgp, 
that  on  the  revulsitm  of  fecIinEf  ami  of  chaiTirtcrwhicli  look  plai-e 
in  that  eventful  October  all  the  sequel  of  the  storj'  may  as  truly 
be  said  to  hanjs^  as  on  the  nratlt  of  Achilles  the  tale  of  Troj 
(Urine,  la  every  critical  juncture  of  bis  life,  on  every  ocoulon 
in  which  Jean  Valjean  dared  to  be  greatly  good,  we  seem  lo 
hear  those  parting  words  of  the  Bishop,  and  to  recall  the  day 
when  he  wrestled  so  bravely  with  all  tliat  was  Iwitl  within  him 
nod  ceased  not  till  he  had  won  the  mastery.  Ap""  and 
again,  throughout  the  storv,  this  struggle  lias  to  be  renewed; 
again  and  again  he  bos  tn  choose  lictwecn  doing  what  ivns  riffht 
■uad  courting'  what  was  safe ;  between  having  a  stain  upon  his 
ronscience  and  keeping  a  mask  upon  his  face.  It  is  this  giVat 
epic  of  a  cfinstrieiico  at  war  with  itself — it  is  this  choice  of  lier> 
rules  which  M.  Victor  Hugo,  if  we  read  him  arij;:ht,  has  set 
hirnself  to  unfold  as  he  ti-accs  the  career  of  a  despised  convict — 
it  is  this  which  imparts  to  the  M'ork  a  fiir  liigher  onler  of  unity 
than  any  mere  external  connexion  nf  im-idcnts  can  supply. 

The  opening  chapter  of  book  iii.  is  entitled  '  L'aiinfe  1817* 
(two  years  after  we  left  Jean  Valjeau  kneeling  at  the  Bishop's 
door),  and  contains  a  most  humorous  satire  on  the  Restoration. 
Thcfsc  ft'w  pages  have  probably  <bawn  down  upon  the  nuthnr 
sevwer  critifism  than  all  the  rest  of  the  work  put  together. 
To  criticism  of  Uiis  kind  aime  little  zest  has  been  imparted  by 
twitting  Victor  Hugo  with  the  political  opinions  which  he  him- 
self held  in  early  years.  Some  of  his  first  jKicms  manifest  a 
symjiathy  with  the  Restoratiun  which  at  times  waxes  to  eiithu- 
siaun.  In  no  respect,  it  would  seem,  were  these  ^Hieuis  so 
marked  with  power  of  imagination  as  in  their  political  colouring, 
A  few  years  elapsed,  ami  the  liberal  tendencies  took  a  very  de- 
cided turn.  Made  a  peer  n(  France  in  1845  bv  Louis  PliJUppc, 
he  still  showtnl  no  disposition  to  ahamlon  the  Radical  riews^  as 
we  should  term  them,  with  which  his  later  works  abouiHl.  These 
TL-aelicd  their  height  in  the  Revolution  of  184>j,  when  M.  Victor 
Hugo,  who  was  elected  one  of  the  members  of  the  City  of  I^ris, 
took  his  place  as  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  Icnst  influentiaj 
orators  on  the  Extreme  Left.  On  all  these  fluctuations  of  opiiunn 
/which  after  all  ended  by  sending  M.  Victor  Hugo  to  exile  vn  the 
occasion  of  the  coup  d'etat  in  December  1852)  KnplUhmen  can 
afliird  to  look  down  and  laugh,  which  we  accordinglv  <!o,  though  in 
this  particular  instance  It  requires  considi-mble  luiniljarity  with 
the  hutork'  of  that  period  to  enjoy  all  the  persiflage,  the  iKiint  of 
which  consists  in  representing  tlie  year  lt^l7  as  one  in  which 
a  number  of  most  trifling  events,  heaped  together  anyhow,  Uwk 

place. 


Zev  Mixrabies. 

place,  to  the  exclusi<m  from  the  narrative  of  all  reallr  historical 
occurrences.  It  is  followed  by  an  account  of  a  'spree*  of  four  Paris 
students,  which  ends  in  the  abandonment  b_v  those  students  of  the 
miatrrsses  with  whom  thev  hnd  for  some  time  b(^n  consorting-. 
We  do  nnt  intimd  to  fnlluw  our  author  intc»  these  orgies.  His 
French  critics  hiivo  been  Kmd  in  denouncing:  the  vmy  in  which 
they  arc  described.  Wc  will  not  attempt  to  ar^iie  a  point  on 
which  their  larger  experience  may  probably  render  them  belter 
judgPS  than  either  M.  Hugo  or  ourselves,  who  feel  diat  wc  are 
whiiDy  Incumjietent.  TIte  cpismle  is  increlv  thntwn  in  as  a 
vehicle  fur  inAkinff  us  acquainted  with  Kantiiu\  an  uuhappy 
creature,  '  more  sinned  a^inst  than  sinuin^,'  as  we  arc  leu  to 
bf>lieve,  who  linds  herself  at  the  end  ol'  the  volume  abandoned  by 
tile  man  in  whom  she  had  tiuscctl,  nnd  by  whom  sIr-  had  been 
seduced  ;  a  mother,  not  a  wife.  She  feels  that  she  i»  on  a  down- 
ward path  which  will  oulv  lead  from  bad  to  worse.  Sheresolves 
to  make  a  stand  in  time,  and  to  betake  herself  to  her  native  plac<\ 

M sur  M .     There  she  might  probably  find  some  one 

who  knew  her,  and  who  would  give  her  some  work.  Rut  meanwhile 
le  must  ctmceal  her  sin;  murt  sejKtrate  herself  from  her  child, 
sold  all  her  finery,  and  with  some  80  francs  in  her  pocket 
I^ris  one  fine  spriu;^  morning,  at  thea^^e  of  twenty-two  years, 
ind  carrying;  her  child  on  her  back,  who  was  turning  three.  As 
she  reached  Montfermeil,  just  ten  months  after  the  '  sprrc,'  her 
attention  was  drawn  to  twti  little  rhihlren,  soniewhni  youn^r 
than  her  own,  who  were  plavin;;  at  the  door  of  a  kind  of  public- 
house.  M.  Victor  Hugi>  has  not  lost  with  advancin^^  years  his 
wonderful  pow*er  of  painting  children.  Notliing*  can  be  more 
cxnuisitc  than  the  description  of  thest?  two  children,  or  of  Fan- 
tine's  child  either,  when  slerj>in^  in  its  mother's  arms,  or  when 
juinlii<;  in  tlu?  ^diIkjIs  of  its  little  plavinati^s.  She  gets  into  con- 
versation with  ihc  mother  of  the  two  children,  the  wife  of  the 
auberpiste,  whose  sijjnpost  (a  *  Scrgcnt  cie  VVnterloo'  carrying  a 
wouudctl  general  on  his  back  thruuifh  clouds  of  smoke)  was  in- 
tended to  convey  the  impression  that  be  had  been  the  means  of 
saving  a  f^eneral's  life  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  A  few  of  M. 
Victor  Hugo's  powerful  words  will  tell  what  manner  of  people 
these  Tbenardicrs  were." 


*  'Ci<!ftieDt  da  en  mtnm  oaines  qui,  n  qnelqac  fen  tomlire  li-a  cfianfri<  p:ir 
liassrd,  deTienDent  AuiluwDt  inan9.1ra«ii»eft.     II  y  avail  datui  U  frmuii^  k'  tiiid 
il'ane  ^rnt«,  «t  dftus  Vbomme  lViod«  d'un  (p^ax.    Tvus  <lcux  cuieut  du  plus  faaut 
dcgrc  twcvptiblct  d«  IVsp^cv  de  hidffuz  proorifl  qui  »  lait  ilitii  le  wn>  du  inajL  ' 
II  Qxittfl  d«  cos  Amts  ^nvigBcs,  rvculant  eoaunndlrRicsi  vtrrs  Ics  ti'nbbrvs.  rtfmv^ 
gradaat  dons  la  vie  pluiAi  qu'vUc*  a'jr  a1al)cen^  DBijilojaot  Icxix-'nciicc  ^  aug-j 
meater  l«ar  diflbrmilv.  empirauC  sus  ec«K  vt  s'anprvignaul  de  plu>  va  pita  d'uo* 
iioircvur  craluKDte.  Cn  lionnefrt  cctie  fcmoe^iaieni  d«  ecaftnu»-Ili.'-HH.  p.  itt.) 

'Dwaris 


S86 


Let  Mtserafiles. 


'  Dworffl  by  onture,  tliey  nced&iJ  bat  Uifi  warmth  of  fwme  bell-bom 
fire  t<)  bo  kimllrd  iuto  luuufiterB.  Tho  womui  had  it  in  her  to  be  a 
hag,  thu  man  to  be  a  sconndreL  Both  w<]ro  to  uoy  oxtvnt  sitBCoptiblo 
of  that  Liileoiis  kind  of  progroM  which  makda  for  what  is  bod.  SotiIa 
tlusru  oru  of  thU  cmb-liko  lutoro,  over  reaching  back  into  outer  dark- 
iscas,  toko  two  fetcps  back  in  lifo  for  odc  step  forward,  tuniiiig  all  tha 
'ihiibs  of  oxporiouce  into  bo  much  added  dc-fonnity,  ever  going  {rom. 
bad  to  worse,  and  oBsimitng  more  and  iiitiro  a  black  uf  dcfiHir  dyu. 
SotJs  such  as  these,  that  man  and  womiui  bore  about  with  them.* 

But  we  roust  return  to  Fantinr,  whom  we  left  bilking  with  the 
slie-TliPTuinlinr,  Channnl  with  the  two  cbiUlren  whom  shi-  saw 
plaviiig  ut  the  door,  wln*«  iniiurence  had  not  as  vet  yielded  la 
the  virinus  example  of  their  {>arents,  ami  who  would  make,  a& 
ihe  fancied,  such  desirable  companions  for  her  own  child,  she 
asks  Madame  Theiiardior  if  she  would  take  chtir^re  <d  Cosette. 
The  nuciition  of  terms  is  then  discussed  ;  a  most  exorbitant  har- 
^iii  IS  struck,  and  Fantine  leaves  her  child  at  Montfermeil  in 
ciiarge    uf  the  Thenardiers  (who    treat    it   with   all    maiiuer  of 

cruelty),  ami  proceeds  on  her  way  to  M sur  M ,     She 

scarcely  knew  the  town  again,  so  greot  wnstbe  progress  1 1 liii I  made. 
Its  grrnt  trade  was  the  mamifHrtiire  nf  iinitntion  jet.  Toxrnrds 
tlie  close  ot  IH15  a  man  liad  setttiMl  in  the  town,  and  by  means 
of  an  invention  which  mode  an  enormous  reduction  in  the  cfist  of 
tbo  raw  material  employed,  which  had  always  been  a  heavy  drag 
on  the  mantifnctnre,  gave  such  an  impetus  to  the  trade,  and  such. 
incn*ase  (i»  the  pmfits  n?sulling  from  it,  that  in  three  years'  lime  hr 
luid  made  b<illi  his  i>wn  fortune  and  that  nf  all  ar<umil  Iiitii,  Tlii* 
man,  it  will  readily  be  conjectured,  was  Jean  Valjeao,  who  now 
comes  Wforc  us  under  tliv  assumed  name  of  M.  Madeleine.  It 
was  in  vain  that  lie  endcavuuretl  to  shun  popularity.  With  wealth 
came  distinction,  and  at  length,  in  spite  of  himself,  he  was  made 
mavor  of  the  town.  It  was  remarked,  that  in  1821,  when  the  dentli 
of  Monseigneur  Myrid  was  announced  in  the  papers,  le  Pere  Ma- 
deleine (as  he  was  called)  went  into  deep  mourning.  Tite  Fau- 
bourg .St.  Oennain  j>t  fetfo  of  the  Urvrn  thought  they  would  take 
him  up,  as  he  was  no  doubt  ^mcbodtf,  or  he  would  not  have  iiut 

on  mourning  for  the  llishop  of  D .     *It  was  so,  was  it  not?' 

asked  an  old  lady  curieute  par  droit  eTancientietL  The  reply  wa* 
Bomcwh.nt  disfomlorting  to  their  new-bora  zeal  on  his  behalf: 
*C*est  que  dans  ma  jennesse  j'ni  etc  laquais  dans  sa  famillc.' 
M.  Madeleine's  inaiiulni'tDry  was  dlvidnl  into  two  sejHirate  com- 
partments; one  for  men,  the  other  for  ivomcn  and  girls.  '  II  em- 
ployail  tout  le  monde.  11  nVxigcait  qu'uue  chose:  soyez  honnetc 
Lomme!  Soyez  lionnctc  fillcl'  (p.  31).  With  tliis  rcsennQoct, 
every  one  was  sure  to  find  work  and  bi'cad  on  applying  at  the 

factory. 


Ltt  MitfrabUi. 


287 


factitry.  Faiitine  applied,  nnil  V(&%  mlniitteil :  but  she  had  not 
been  tlicrr  a  Iwrlvpinnntli  Itefore  the  biisv  tongue  nntl  prvinR 
curioBity  uf  inalcvulent  eiivy  made  it  known  that  she  had  u  child 
at  Montl'enneiL  Tho  suporior  of  the  feinnlc  factury,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  ffenpral  regulations  of  the  ostablishmrnt,  g^%'c  her 
fifty  I'rancs  mid  turned  her  ofi"  Funtine's  downwani  (Mith  is 
lincc-d  iti  tlirtllin^  words,  Tlie  exactiuns  <>f  the  Thciianlicrs 
iuei'cascd  in  the  inverstr  rntio  iif  lier  means  nf  tniM'lin^  tlu-in. 
She  sells  evetythinp, — her  Iwir  U>  the  barber,  her  teeth  to  the 
dentist,  and  ultimately  herself  t*>  the  first  comer.  *  Ellc  n'evitc 
plus  ricn.  Elle  ne  crahit  plus  rien.  Tombu  sur  ellc  toute  la 
nuec  ct  {msse  sur  die  tout  I'nix'an  !  Que  lui  iinjMirte  ?  c'est  uiie 
eponge  iinhibeo'  (p.  I2i)).  One  evening,  a  lu\r,  cold-bluoded 
provincial  libertine,  who  never  passed  the  toothless  prostitute 
without  a  leer  and  a  sneer,  took  it  into  bis  hcnti,  out  of  very 
wantonness,  to  put  a  snowball  down  the  poor  creature's  back. 
Frenzied  with  drink  nnil  despair,  slie  Hew  at  him  like  n  panther. 
The  inspector  of  police,  Javert,  made  his  api>enrance,  and  she 
was  marched  off  to  the  statiuii-house.  As  this  inspector  is  one  uf 
tlie  most  prominent  and  best-drawn  characters  in  the  bui>k.  we  must 
devote  a  few  words  to  him  before  we  pr(»ccc<i  fuilher.    M.  Ma*ie- 

leine  had  preceileil  him  at  M  —  —  sur  M .     He  was  the  only 

man  whose  cordial  g<H)dwill  the  mayor  had  never  sHCCwdi-d  in 
C'OUCiliatiu}^.  Javert  knew  nothing  uf  M.  Madeleine's  antcce- 
dents :  this  alone  was  enough  to  make  him  suspect  him  ;  keep 
his  eye  on  hiin.  But  this  was  not  all.  He  felt  sure' he  knew 
die  face  ;  liatl  seen  it  Iwfon?;  when-,  he  could  not  tell,  ihou-ih  he 
strtnc-  night  and  tlay  In  renicniber.  An  incident  octurred  which 
put  him  on  tlic  scent,  and  would  prolwibly  have  made  him  act,  if 
be  had  not  been  disconcerted  and  thrown  off  by  Madeleine's 
wonderful  comjKisure.  An  old  man,  of  the  name  uf  I'^uuehelc- 
vrat,  fell  with  his  *^an  and  horse  over  him.  M.  Madeleine 
came  up  to  the  siMit,  and  said  tluit  if  Uiere  wan  no  one  who  in  the 
literal  sense  of  the  word  would  put  liis  shoulder  to  the  M'heel,  in 
order  to  extricate  the  man  by  relievinf;  him  from  the  ])rcs8ure, 
he  would  do  it  himself.  Javert  kept  his  eyo  fastene^J  on  him, 
and  said  he  had  never  known  but  one  man — a  crmvict  at  Tnuhm 
— capnble  of  such  a  feat,  M.  Maiirleine  n^unml  die  glance 
without  wincing,  and  tlien,  with  Herculean  strength,  raised  the 
cart  and  saved  the  man,  for  whom  he  subsequently  got  a  place 
ns  gardener  at  Paris  in  a  convent,  wheie  we  slmtl  again  meet 
with  him.  Meanwhile  Javert  kept  watching.  In  fact,  we  ore 
told— 

'All  he  lived  for  tniglit  tx]  ntiumic-d  up  in  thew  Iwu  ivords— watch 

and  ward.  Of  a  earner  uie  most  tortuous  iu  tbo  world  he  bad  nunagcd 

Vol.  lI2.~A'y.  i.'S-J.  t  tj 


I 


to  mako  a  Blmiglit  lino :  bin  usefnlneeH  was  liia  coneoieiKse ;  liis  ditties 
his  religion.  Ha  brought  to  tbc  offit:«  of  a  spy  tbu  frame  of  tniinl  of 
a  j>riL«t.  Woe  to  tlio  num  who  fell  into  bis  iioworl  ....  lie  lukd 
BO  pleosoat  rices,  m  we  h»vo  already  aaid.  WlirJi  bo  Vrtis  in  good 
bamour  with  biuuelf,  he  Tentorod  on  a  pindi  of  snufF.  It  vrm  in  tills 
hm  shared  uur  couuubn  buuuuiity.' 

The  whole  of  this  chapter  (»n  Juvprt  is  nn  admimblr  portrait  of 
the  austere  French  ajjent  dc  police — wc  must  not  call  Lim  policr- 
won,  lor  the  EriiflisU  word,  wo  arc  tlmukful   to  «ay,  convi-ys  n 
totally  different  idea.     It  is  witli  this  Jarcit  that  M.  Nfndeleine  r 
now  brought  into  colli&ion.      A  scone   of  ^reat   power  rnsun 
between  them  apro)X)s  of  Fantine.    Just  as  .Invert  is  scndiiiK"  h^r 
off  to  prison  for  six  months,  the  mayor  enters  the  bureau,  nnd 
asserts   the  rijrht  of  ndjudirntinfr  the  matter  coiiferreil   on   him 
by  the  Code,  and   thereupon  ortlers  the  release  iif  Fantine.     T«» 
Javert's  remonstrances   he  replies,   first  of  all,  by  a  courteous 
explanation  as  on  cvewitness  of  tlie  streot-row,  and  ultimately  by 
an    imperative  Sorta;.     Meanwhile   Fantine,    from    whose   lip» 
M.  Madeleine   hiid   for  the   first  time  heard,  in  frenzied  nreents, 
the  tnic  of  wcx-,  is  jilacwl  in  tlin  jnfinnarv  attiched  to  the  i:iaviir's 
own  house,  under  the  irharfje  of  wtme  Sisters  of  Charity.     Tliat 
evening   Javert    jHistcd   a    letter,    addressed   lo  M.   Chabouillet^ 
S^en'-taire  da  Mmsieitr  k  Prffct  (h  Folke.     It  is  in  vain  that  !M. 
Madeleine  writes    to   desire   the  Thenardiers  to   send  C'oseite. 
The  order  is  evaded,  and  in  reply  there  only  comes  a  bill.     The 
doctor  i*ives  it  lis  his  opinion  tlint  if  the  child  is  to  seo  its  mother  ^H 
ativc  there  must  be  no  delay.    M.  Mniloleine  jtets  I'antine  to  sisrn  ^| 
on  order  to  ^ive  up  the  child  to  the  bearer,  and  says  he  will  either 
scmt  or  f^)  himself.    'Sur  ces  entrefaites  il  sur^'int  un  grave  inci- 
dent.    Nous  HVons  beau  tailler  dc  notre  mieux  le  bloc  mystcriciix 
dont  notre  vie  est  faite,  la  veine  noire  de   la  destiot5e  y  rcparait 
toujours*   (p.    173).      One   morning,   white   M.  Madeleine  is  at 
work  in  his  cabinet  disposinj;  of  some  business  before  starting; 
Tor  Montfrrmril,  Javert  asks  to  speak  witli  him.     Tlie  scene  is 
told   as   ^^,  Hugo  only  can   tell   it.      Wc   can  but   give   a   hastv 
summary.       Tlie    austere   Javert   stands    CTcstfalJen    behind    the 
nutyor;  and  it  is  only  when  the  mayor,  who  has  received  him 
coldly,  asks  what  he  wants,  that  be  requests  an  application  for  his 
dismissal  may  be  forwarded  to  l*aris.     The  mayor  is  all  amajc- 
ment:   'Was    it  on   account  of  the   altercation  about    Fantine? 
'JTiat   slwll  all  Ik-   forgotten   and   forgiven.'     No :    it  was  worse 
than  that :  he  had  writt«>n   to  flrnounre  tlic  mayor  as  bein;;  tlie 
convict  Jean  Valjean,  who  alter  his  Ulieration  eipht  years  before 
hod  robbed  a  bishop's  house  and  committed  a  highway  robbery 
on  a  Savoyard.     They  had  written  Dx>m  Paris  to  say  that  ha 

must 


I 


I 


Lea  Mis^ahtes.  289 

mnst  bo  mod,  as  the  real  Jean  Valjean  was  now  awaiting-  his 
trial  at  Arras.  A  man,  who  called  himself  Champmathieu 
(which  Javert  now  believed  was  merely  a  device  of  Jean  Val- 
jean's,  who  had  taken  his  mother*s  name,  which  we  have  seen  to 
be  Mathieu,  and  who  from  Jean  Mathiea  had  got  to  be  called 
Champmathieu),  had  been  taken  up  for  robbing  an  orchard.  In 
any  one  else  this  was  a  trifle,  but  in  the  case  of  a  liberated  convict 
it  was  a  case  of  r^idice,  and  would  be  punished  with  the  galleys 
for  life.  The  discovery,  Javert  went  on  to  say,  was  quite  acci- 
dental. The  gaol  at  the  place  where  the  robbery  was  committed 
was  out  of  repair,  so  Champmathieu  was  taken  to  the  depart- 
mental prison  at  Arras.  He  had  no  sooner  got  there  than  an 
old  convict  of  the  name  of  Brevet  at  once  recognised  him  as  Jean 
Valjean.  Inquiries  were  made  at  Toulon.  There  were  only  two 
convicts  there  who  remembered  Jean  Valjean.  They  are  con- 
fronted with  Champmathieu,  and  do  but  corroborate  what  Brevet 
had  said.  Champmathieu  meanwhile,  like  a  cunning  dog,  says 
Javert,  plays  the  idiot,  and  simply  persists  in  pretending  not  to 
understand  what  they  mean,  and  in  affirming  that  he  is  Champ- 
mathieu. When  Javert  made  his  denunciation  against  M.  Made- 
leine, he  had  been  sent  for  to  Arras,  and  was  obliged,  with  regret, 
to  admit  his  blunder.  The  genuine  Jean  Valjean,  he  was  now 
positive,  was  none  other  than  Champmathieu.  *  Le  vieux  coquin 
sera  condamne.  C'est  port6  aux  assises  a  Arras.  Je  vais  y  aller 
pour  temoigner.  '  Je  suis  cit^.'  (p.  189.)  '  When  was  the  trial 
to  take  place  ?  *  asks  the  mayor.  '  The  next  day,*  is  the  reply ; 
*  sentence  would  probably  be  given  late  at  night'     Javert  leaves 

M sur  M ,  but  not  without  renewing  his  request  that  he 

may  be  dismissed. 

M.  Madeleine's  first  care  is  to  see  that  Fantine  has  everything 
she  wants  ;  his  next  is  to  see  after  a  horse  and  cabriolet  which 
will  take  him  twenty  leagues  in  one  day.  He  orders  it  to  be  at 
his  door  at  half-past  four  on  the  following  morning ;  he  then 
returns  home.  All  night  long  the  cashier  of  the  manufactory, 
who  lived  in  a  room  right  underneath  M.  Madeleine's,  heard  feet 
pacing  to  and  fro,  cupboards  opening,  and  even  windows,  though 
the  night  was  bitterly  cold.  Such  sounds  were  very  unusual. 
What  could  be  going  on  ? 

The  answer  to  this  question  is  contained  in  the  succeeding 
chapter — *  Une  Tempite  sous  un  Crdrie  * — a  prodigy  of  artistic 
and  psychological  skill,  which  alone  would  entifle  M.  Victor 
Hugo  to  the  very  highest  place  as  a  writer.  The  first  feeling 
which  came  over  him  when  Javert  was  relating  what  had  turned 
up  about  Cfaampmathien  was  the  instinct  of  self-preservatimi. 
With  superhuman  effort  be  kept  down  his  straggling  emotions, 

u  2  and 


and  adjoumed  all  resolve  with  a  firmness  in&pired  by  twror, 
Tiirou^h  the  reoiaioder  of  tlic  day  he  contrivL\l  to  preserve  a 
ralni  exterior,  though  bot  buTiiing  coals  were  consuming  him 
within.  Everjthinjf  was  blurred  and  (i>nfiisc<l  before  bis  eye. 
All  lie  felt  was,  that  a  f|;reat  blow  bad  fallen  on  him :  tbat  a 
great  peri!  w;i*  to  be  shunncil.  Tlie  feeling  of  self-preservation 
was  uppermost  in  lus  mind.  At  any  rate,  he  thoujjht  he  would 
juBt  go  lo  Arras,  and  see  wimt  turn  tilings  took.  It  could  da  n" 
harm  to  be  on  the  spot,  lie  ate  a  good  dinner,  and  then  came 
home  and  tried  to  collect  bis  tbouf;hts.  I*"or  some  reason  or 
other,  he  ^ot  up  and  locked  tlte  t1(K)r.  llien  again,  he  got  up  a 
second  time  to  put  out  the  candle.  He  fancied  some  one  might 
see  him.  Some  one  ! — who  ?  Fttol  I  nn  Iwii-s  or  Iwdts  could  hirk 
out,  no  ilnrknesB  blind,  wlint  was  then  staring  a(  hiin  fai'r  tn  face 
•^his  fonscienre ;  that  is,  his  (Jud.  Still  he  fi*lt  inojv  comfort- 
able after  locking  the  door  and  putting  out  the  candle.  11 
leaned  with  bis  ellxiws  on  the  table,  his  face  in  his  bands,  awl 
tlinught  ;  hut  bis  thoughts  slippml  Irom  lii<i  gmsp.  His  will  was 
unnerved  :  his  reason  was  uiihiiigt-d.  Untold  anguish  and  dismay 
weie  nil  that  be  was  sensible  of.  He  gut  up,  and  uj>ened  the 
window.  His  bmin  was  on  fire.  He  came  back,  and  sat  at  tl;c 
table.  One  lumr  gone.  By  degrees  f>nc  or  two  details  came 
<nxt  to  view.  Critical  as  was  his  situation,  he  could  not  but  see 
»hnt  he  was  absolutely  and  entirely  the  master  of  it.  To  ihiuk 
that  that  dreaited  name  uf  Jean  Valjeaii,  Mhicli  for  eight  years 
be  had  l>een  endeavouring  to  bury  in  obliviun,  llad  now  sounded 
in  his  cars — sounded,  nut  tu  eomlenin  him  once  mure  to  igno- 
miny, but  to  make  that  g'wid,  rsrcllent  Monsieur  Madeleine 
more  rrspected  and  rpsprrtoblc  than  ever — was  enough  tn  make 
liis  brain  turn.      And  yet  this  was  no  mni'e  than  wliat   liad  hap- 

f)ened  :  what  God  had  permitted  tn  happen.     A  thrill  came  ore 
lira ;  he  relighted  his  ramlle.      He  was  all  safe  now.      He  was 
quit  even  of  Jovert,  whose  suspicions  not  only  were  at  rest,  but 
^^^       who  was  also  going  t"  leave  dw  town.     Why  h.id   he  got  into 
^^K      mch  a   fever  i*      It  was  none  of  his  doing,  wliat  liail  happened. 


I 


Providence  had  done  il ;  it  wuuld  be  very  wrong  in  him  to  medjlc 
with  it.     Here  was  the  very  tiling  he  had  been  toiling  and  moiliii 


^ 

r,^ 


for  :  his  dream  by  "ight.  bis  struggle  by  day,  his  constant  [wnyer, 
all  done  to  his  hand.  God  bod  so  ordered  iL  Then  he  jjot  ujt, 
and  walked  about.  He  would  think  no  more  of  it.  His  mind 
was  made  up.  'Mais  il  ne  sentait  aucunejoie.  Au  contraire. 
On  n'empt'ciie  pas  plus  la  pcnsce  dc  rcvenir  a  line  idee  qne  la 
mer  de  revenir  ii  un  rivnge.  Pour  le  malelot,  cela  s'apprlJe  la^J 
marine;  pour  Ic  euupable,  rela  s'anpelle  le  remonU.  Dieu  Bou-^| 
Icvo  I'ame  coiume  Vocean'  (p.  2o6).     Fur  the  first  time  in  bi»^^ 

life 


d 


Leg  Mitirahles. 


291 


life  he  had  tasted  the  bitterness  of  a  bnd  thought  and  a  base  act. 
His  end  piinc<l,  indeed ! — he  said  to  himself — but  wlint  end  ? 
to  dodge  the  pniice  V  Was  St  for  that  he  had  for  right  rears 
taken  so  mucli  thought  and  care?  Was  there  not  a  hif^her  and 
iR  better  aim,  the  only  real  aim,  for  which  he  had  livetl?  To 
Mve  his  soul  from  a  fouler  bondage  far  than  anj  fetter  could  lay 
upon  his  limbs.  Close  the  door,  indeed,  on  his  accursed  Pnstt 
But  he  was  not  closin;:  it.  Great  God  !  he  did  but  open  it  a^in 
when  he  l>ecame  guilty  of  an  art  so  Inse  as  to  lay  ap«>n  an 
iiinoretit  head  tliat  loiul  vi  infamy  and  of  suffering  which  calls 
itself  the  fnilieys. 

'  He  fcU  thnt  the  Bishop  was  there,  all  the  moro  really  thcro  because 

he  wan  nmnbcrcd  among  tiio  dcnd ;  he  foU  that  the  Bishop  bad  his  eye 

'on  hitii,  that  froTo  hi^ncoforth  it  was  K.  Miulcloiuc,  the  mayor,  nhom 

[witli  nil  his  virtues  he  would  count  a«  'lung;  and  Joan  Vayenn,  the 

convict,  vrhom  hu  would  reckon  pure  and  of  good  report.     That  Cho 

world  saw  his  raask.,  hut  that  the  Bishop  saw  his  foee ;  that  tho  world 

saw  his  going  init  and  hin  i-i>niing  in,  bat  thn  Binhnp  snw  bin  consoienoe. 

To  Anus  then  it  behoved  him  Co  go.  to  liberato  the  &lse  Jean  Valjean 

aod  to  donouDce  tho  true-  one.     Alas !  what  sacrifice  could  be  greater 

than  tliiii — what  Tiuttiry  muro  poignant  ?    Tu  do  tbtB  was  to  du  all ;  but 

done  it  must  be.    Lamentable  destiuy !     Holiness  in  tho  sight  of  Grod 

Lcoold  only  be  had  by  becoming  onco  more  infamouii  in  the  sight  of 

IJnau.     "  Well !"  hu  said,  '^  let  mu  go  where  duty  coIIh— tluit  man  shall 

saved."' 

He  said  this  out  loud,  without  knowing  he  hod  done  so.  He 
tonk  Itis  accounts,  and  put  them  in  order ;  then  wrote  a  letter  on 
which  might  have  lieen  s^en  the  following  aildress  :  '  A  Mowieur 
LaffUte,  liauqaiefy  Rue  d'ArtoU,  a  Paris.^  'ITiis  letter  be  sealetl 
and  pat  into  his  pockct'book.  Alt  this  was  done,  as  it  were, 
mechanically.  A  nervous  twitch  ever}*  now  and  then  about  the 
lips  was  the  only  indication  of  what  was  going  on  within.  A 
thousand  thoughts  lK.>^icgfil  him.  He  saw  InitlJiiig  hi^f<iro  him 
the  two  ideas  which  hiUierto  hud  been  the  guide  of  his  lift? — the 

^CMicealment  of  his  name  from  mankind,  and  integrity  iu  tho 
tjght  of  God.     The  one  involved  the  security,  the  other  entailed 

^the  sacrifice,  of  self;  and  now  they  vrerc  at  war — these  two 
iciples  of  action.  The  Rtshoji  marked  the  fu'st  crisis  in  his 
treer ;  Chainpmathieu  was  to  inako  the  second.  Perhaps  Uiis 
Champmathieu  was,  after  all.  a  good-for-nothing  fellow  I  Then 
he  Ix'thought  him  tlxat  the  very  fact  of  his  surrendering  himself 
np,  and  of  the  life  he  had  for  seven  years  been  leading,  would 

Erocure  his  pardon.      But  this  thought  was  soon  dismissed  :  the 
•w  would  be  sure  to  take  its  course.     There  was  nothing  for  it 
— he  must  do  his  dutv.     AU  his  life  would  l>c  poisoned  if  he 

left 


s«a 


Xfltf  Mia^rabl&i. 


left  it  undone.     Hb  bmin  was  getting  weary  with  tLcso  per- 

Elexing  thoughts  ;  his  temples  throbbed.  Twelve  nVlock  struck, 
oth  nt  tlic  church  and  the  town-hnll.  He  remarked  how  much 
louder  one  was  than  the  other.  Then  he  thonght  of  an  old  clock 
be  had  seen  for  sale  at  a  pawnbroker's. shop,  and  remembcrMl 

•the  name  on  it — AntoJne  Albin  de  Homninvillc.  He  fdt  cohl, 
and  lighted  thn  fire,  and  secmrd  to  forget  ho  had  npt^iicd  tho 
window.  A  kind  of  stupor  c-iiinc  over  him.  Wa  had  to  make 
an  elTurt  hofurc  be  could  remcuil)er  what  he  was  ihioking  about 
w^hen  t)ie  clock  struck  twelve.  All  of  a  sudden  Fantioe  came  intu 
his  head.  What  would  become  of  her  if  he  gave  himscli"  op? — 
Av,  and  not  onij  of  Iicr,  but  4if  all  the  proph*  dependent  on  hia 
pau'ttioiis  and  his  bouutv  ?  lie  Imd  imlv  been  tliiuking  of  him- 
self— nlwavs  himself— the  fii-st  duty  is  to  think  of  others.     If  he 

'  Vanished  from  the  scene,  the  whole  pbicc  would  go  lo  ruin — the 
welfare  nf  hundreds  would  be  undone  Poor  FanttiKs  child, 
too — what  would  become  of  it  ?  Tbis  act  oi  self-devotion  would 
sjiread  misery  on  every  side  I  and  all  for  the  sake  of  an  old 
vagabond  who  mij^ht.  after  all,  he  as  happy  nt  the  galleys  as  in 
■ome  wretched  hovel  I  Surety  it  was  not  right  to  sacrifice  the 
interests  of  a  whole  population  to  those  of  such  a  fellow  as 
Champinathien  !  He  ought  to  stnv  where  be  was;  it  was  a 
sphere  of  mormons  usefulness,  which  it  would  be  criminal  to 
awndon.  He  got  up,  and  walked  about,  lie  was  all  right  now 
— he  was  M.  Madeleine,  and  Madeleine  he  ivonid  remain. 
VVT>nt  had  he  t«  do  with  the  name  of  Jean  Valjean?  He  looked 
at  himself  in  the  glass,  and  felt  more  comfortable.  His  mind 
was  at  length  made  up.  lint  woulil  it  nut  be  well,  this  re5i)lutioa 
once  tnkfii,  to  de&tniv  alt  nialertal  tmces  of  the  past,  and  to  snap 
all  the  threads  which  bound  him  to  Jean  Valjean?  He  took  K 
small  key  out  of  his  pursi',  and  with  it  opened  a  secret  caphoard 
in  a  corner  of  tlie  room.  From  it  he  took  a  blouse,  an  old  knap- 
sack, and  other  articles  of  attite   which  any  one  who  hail   seen 

Jean  Valjean  as  he  entered  the  town  of  D in  Oelidirr,  1H15, 

would  at  once  have  recopnised.  He  cast  a  furtive  glance  at  the 
door,  and  tlicn  took  all  these  things  in  his  arms,  and  thrust  them 
into  tliP  fire ;  he  relocked  the  secret  cu])board,  and  pushed  n 
piece  (if  furniture  against  it,  to  make  it  doubly  safe  fnmi  lietec- 
tion.  'I'hc  room  was  all  in  n  blaze.  He  meanvthile  paced  up 
and  down.  Hts  eye  fell  ujNin  two  silver  candlesticks  on  the 
chimney-piece.  They,  too,  must  fi>ilow  the  knapsack.  Hfl 
Btoojwrd  down  with  them  over  the  fire.  Of  a  sudden  a  voi«l 
called  tri  him  from  witliin — 'Jean  Valjean  I  Jcnn  Valjean!* 
His  hair  stotid  on  end  ;  a  cohl  sweM  came  o\'er  him  ;  his  con- 
science smote  him,   lash  after  lash.      He  pat  the  candlesticks 

back 


I 


d 


Let  Misdrable*.  293 

back  OQ  the  chimney.  The  whole  struggle  hod  to  be  gone 
through  afresh.  Villany  in  clover,  or  integrity  in  chains — which 
was  he  to  choose  ?  It  was  now  three  oVIock.  Utterly  exhausted, 
he  threw  himself  on  a  chair,  and  fell  asleep.  A  horrible  dread 
had  overwhelmed  him,  and  now  filled  his  sleep  with  nightmare. 
He  awoke  cold  as  ice.  The  fire  had  gone  out ;  the  candle  was 
burning  in  the  socket.  He  went  to  the  window,  and  heard  a 
sharp,  hard  sound  along  the  street.  Two  red-looking  stars 
seemed  to  be  twinkling  in  the  distance,  low  down.  Presently 
he  saw  that  what  he  had  taken  for  stars  were  lanterns,  and  that 
the  voice  he  had  heard  was  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  feet.  What 
can  this  carriage  be  at  this  hour?  he  said  to  himself.  Just  then 
he  heard  a  knock  at  the  door  of  his  room.  *  Who's  there?'  he 
called  out  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  It  was  the  old  *  portiere,*  who 
came  to  tell  him  the  tilbury  was  at  the  door.  '  Tilbury  1 — what 
tilbury?'  *Why  the  tilbury  Monsieur  le  Maire  had  ordered 
from  M.  Scaufflaire.'  That  name  recalled  him  to  his  senses,  and 
pive  to  his  face  an  expression  of  agony  too  terrible  to  behold. 
The  old  woman  waited  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  ventured  to 
ask  what  she  should  say.  *  It  was  all  right,  and  he  would  be 
down  directly,'  was  the  reply. 

We  are  so  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  in  this  dire 
struggle  of  Jean  Valjean's  between  the  feeling  of  duty  and  the 
fear  of  danger  is  to  be  sought  the  leading  idea  which  runs 
through  the  whole  work,  and  which  strings  together,  so  to  speak, 
all  the  incidents,  divert  and  diverse,  which  follow  one  another 
in  rapid,  strange  succession,  that  we  have  made  it  our  business 
to  lay  particular  stress  on  those  portions  of  the  book  in  which 
the  tide  of  battle  is  at  its  height,  and  the  victory  seems  to  sway 
now  on  this  side,  now  on  that.  Once  possess  ourselves  of  this 
key,  and  we  have  no  difficulty  in  unlocking  the  mysteries  of  art 
and  skill  which  M.  Victor  Hugo  has  brought  together  from  the 
rich  stores  of  his  fertile  imagination.  With  this  view  we  have 
endeavoured  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  power  with 
which  our  author  has  described  the  fluctuations  of  stormy  feeling 
with  which  Jean  Valjean  was  assailed  at  this  momentous  crisis, 
which  was  to  hurl  him  from  affluence  and  fame  to  the  ignominy 
of  the  galleys. 

Jean  Valjean's  struggles  do  not  end  with  his  stepping  into  the 
tilbury.  The  succeeding  chapter — Let  Batons  dan*  let  Roues — 
records  successive  crises  in  the  man's  mind  as  successive  obstacles 
— 'spokes  in  the  wheel' — render  it  almost  physically  impossible 
for  him  to  reach  Arras  in  time  to  save  Champmathieu.  The 
agony  and  despair  which  torture  him  as  the  wheels  bear  him  on 
to  the  scene  of  self-denunciation  tempt  him  in  each  succeeding 

casualty 


casualty  to  see  the  finger  of  God  telling  him  to  retrace  hi«  steps, 
and  let  tilings  be.  And  every  such  temptation  entails  a  frefeh 
effort  to  overcome  i^  Overcome  them,  however,  he  does. 
Where  there  is  no  cross  there  is  no  crown.  He  nrrivcs  at  the 
Palais  dc  Justice  late  in  the  evening*.  At  e%'ery  step  he  mounts, 
the  iron  enters  into  bis  s(wl.  The  court  is  so  crowded,  he  can- 
not find  ailmitlnnre.  Hi-  semis  jn  his  card  to  the  Prpsitlmt. 
The  name  and   reputation  uf  tlie  ahic  and   benevolent  Mayor  of 

M  sur  M were  not  unknown  at  Arraa.     He  waa  kbown 

into  the  rctiring^-room,  from  which  a  door  opened  to  the  seats 
Ijchind  the  President.  Wnnderi'ul  are  the  [la^rs  in  wbic-h  Victitr 
Hugo  ilesf-rilifs  the  final  stru^rsle  of  the  unhappv  man.  The 
trial  itself,  up  to  the  meniorahir  moment  when  S\.  Madeleine 
declares  '  Je  suis  Jean  Valjean,'  is  alio  described  witb  a  power 
which  no  one  but  a  Hugo  could  command.  Everywhere  we  see 
tlint  conscientious  work  for  which  ho  is  so  conspicuous  among 
his  countrymen.  We  have  not  space,  however,  to  continue  our 
analysis  on  the  same  scale  as  heretofore.  Jean  Valjean  is  arresletl 
by  the  Javert  who,  but  two  days  before,  had  been  so  cr^stfallea, 
but  now  cnjws  as  he  clutches  his  prey ;  he  is  lodged  in  the  prison 
nf  that  town  of  which  he  had  for  eight  years  been  the  pride ; 
makes  his  escape  for  the  purpose  of  concealing  in  a  forest  a 
sum  of  about  630,0(X)  francs,  which  were  lying  in  his  name  at 
LafBttc's ;  is  recaptured,  and  sent  to  the  gallevs  for  life.  With 
this  event,  and  with  the  death  of  Fantine,  ends  the  First  Part. 
However  much  the  n-nder  may  Ije  astonislieil  at  finding  the 
Srrond  Part  commencing  with  1 70  pages  on  the  battle*  of 
Waterloo,  which  have  no  further  conm-xion  with  the  storv  tlian 
can  be  found  in  the  fact  that  an  officer — the  father  of  the  Man'uJ 
who  gives  the  name  to  Part  III. — was  pulled  out  from  among 
thp  wounded  at  that  bottle  for  the  sake  of  lieing  rubbml  by 
nienardier,  and  so  laid  himself,  as  he  crrorieouBly  imagined, 
under  obligations  to  that  villain  for  saving  his  life,  no  surprise 
at  all  can  be  felt  that  the  child  of  the  deceased  Fantine  should 
thenceforth  serve  as  the  pivot  around  which  Jean  Valjcan't 
«rlf-sacrifi(:e  would  be  made  to  tuni.  It  was  in  consequence  of 
his  surrendering  himself  to  justice,  that  he  had  nut  n-'scued 
Cosette  from  the  hands  of  the  Thenardiers,  and  restored  her  to 
her  mother;  so  now  his  first  step  must  be  to  complete  tlie  duty 
which  he  bad  left  undischaigcd,  and  which  was  doubly  sacrc<] 
now  that  Fantine  was  no  more.  When  he  arrives  at  the  gnllevs 
at  Toulon,  he  is  supjHised  to  Ije  dmwned  while  saving  the  life 
of  one  of  the  crew  of  tlie  ship,  but  in  reality  makes  his  escape, 
and  we  find  him  re-appraring  at  Montfermcil,  ami  carni'ing  awmy 
with  him  the  wretched  victim  of  the  Thenardiers'  cruelty.     H« 

reaches 


I 
I 


Lex  Mit^ahkA. 


295 


hi 


Tparlics   Paris,  and  there  is  detected  by  Us  old  enemy,  Javert, 

who,  in  i-nnseqnpnceof  tlie  affKir  nt  M— —  siir  M ■,  Imd  \wvn 

pn>niotM]  let  form  part  of  thp  Paris  jjoHt-p.  Tlip  nrws  ol"  the  rhild 
of  one  Fantinti  having'  lieoii  rarrioil  off  from  Montfermril  l>v  a 
itrimger  h.id  arousod  the  \*ipiIanro  which  luid  been  put  to  sleep 
by  n  parntpTiph  in  the  papers  on  Jean  Voljean's  bcinjf  drowned. 
After  a  ehast-  of  a  most  exciting^  clinracter,  Jean  Valjean  effects 
Lis  escape  by  climbing'  over  the  wall  of  a  ^rilrn,  whirh  turns 
oot  to  be  that  of  the  convent  at  wliicli,  it  will  I»n  remeinlH-ied, 
M.  Madeleine  had  procured  the  place  of  p;ardener  for  Fauche- 
levcDt.  On  recognising  the  man  who  had  saved  his  life  and 
improved  his  fortunes,  Fauthelevcnt  devotes  himself  to  his 
service,  and  discreetly  asks  nu  questions.  It  was  enough  f«r 
bim  to  know  tliat  he  liad  saved  his  life.  Once  there,  as  tlic  old 
gardener  pithily  puts  it,  tlie  difKculty  for  Jean  Valjenn  was  how 
get  in ;  and  this  difliculty  was  preceded  by  another,  how  to 
get  out.  A  solution  for  tlie  first  of  these  difficulties  is  devised 
by  representing'  to  the  Lady  Superior  that  he  is  becoming  very 
infirm,  and  would  he  glad  of  the  assistance  of  hia  brother,  who 
had  a  little  grandchild  who  might  very  possibly  become  a  nun. 
This  bait  is  swallowed  by  the  Abbess^  who  gives  him  permission 
fur  his  brother  to  come  and  live  M-ilh  him.  But  how  to  get  out? 
A  nun  had  recently  dleil  in  the  convent,  whom  they  were  anxious 
to  liurv  within  tlie  walls,  contrary  to  the  law  which  forlmde  such 
intermeiits.  Fauchclevoiii  is  called  in  by  the  Ablx-ss  to  con- 
rjltation.  While  the  nun  was  Iniried  in  the  vaults  of  the 
convent,  could  not  the  coffin  intende<i  to  convey  her  remains  to 
the  cemetery  be  otherwise  filled,  and  so  reader  the  illegality 
ihcy  were  bent  on  committing  safe  from  detection?  To  this 
proposal  Faurhelcvent  assents  the  more  readily,  as  be  sees  in  it 
a  means  of  conrcving  Jean  Valjean  outside  the  convent  walls. 
Tlie  man  in  charge  of  the  cemetery  was  a  gxi'nt  frieml  of  his, 
ond  he  would  contrive  t«>  send  him  off  to  the  public-house,  and 
to  remain  himself  to  611  up  the  grave,  hut  not  before  he  hat) 
released  Jean  Valjenn  from  his  confinement.  To  this  scheme 
Valjean  consents.  Every  day  he  remained  in  the  convent  at  the 
risk  of  detection  filled  him  with  trepidation,  Ixjth  for  liis  own 
sake  and  for  that  of  the  child,  whose  fortnnrs  were  thenrefnrlH 
linked  to  his  own.  He  was  determine*!  to  quit  it  at  the  risk  of 
(uflncntion.  As  U>r  Cnsette,  she  could  l>c  carried  nut  in  a  basket. 
Tikis  risk,  owing  to  an  imforesecn  catastrophe,  was  greater  than 
he  had  anticipated.  Fauchelevcnt's  friend  at  the  cemetery-  was 
dead,  and  liad  betm  replaceil  by  some  one  else,  to  whom  ho  was 
A  perfect  stranger,  and  who  had  none  of  the  readiness  of  his 
predecessor  to  abandon  the  bier  with  an  i  for  the  beer  with  an  e. 

The 


• 


d 


2DG 


Lcs  Mi 


The  scene  which  ensues,  both  inside  the  coffin  and  out,  is  one 
which  may  emphatically  be  called,  in  the  language  of  penny* 
o-lincrg,  a  tenmUioa  scene.  At  lengtli  Fauchclcrcnt  contrives 
ffet  rid  of  this  perversely  sober  gmvedisger,  and  so  extricato 
Jean  Valjcan,  in  a  state  of  insoniiibility,  from  bis  perilous  posi- 
tion. At  the  Second  Port  wc  find  him  infefciilwl  in  the  convent  as 
a^istant  pardcncr  to  bis  supposed  brother,  nnd  ('usettc  lulinittc 
rii  {lupll  in  the  ppnsinnniit.  H'c  tvill  ciuott!  n  short  pas£i^re  frot 
tlie  concluding^  p<'^<'<  <>f  Vol.  iv.  to  show  bow  the  aut 
connects  this  phase  of  Jean  \'aljeau's  career  with  Uie  memoi 
bic  events  of  October,  1815. 

'TTtmrever,  Owl  works  in  Kis  own  way.  Tho  conToct  helped,  bb 
Cosctto  did,  to  huUd  up  in  Jciui  Vuljoan  wbiit  the  Bitthop  ]au\  be^rm. 
Certain  it  is  thst  on  one  side  virtue  borders  rery  vitmo  npr»u  pride. 
Tbu  ifpoce  bbtwenn  is  bridged  over,  and  it  in  the  daril  who  builds  the 
bridge.  Joan  Yoljoan,  v>'ithout  knowing  it,  perhaps,  may  hare  beoB 
on  the  coidincA  of  that  bridge,  when  ProTidcnce  placed  him  in  Iho 
convent  of  the  Petit- Picpus.  So  long  as  ho  bad  measured  liimsclf  by 
the  Bishop  lut  n  stan<Ur<1,  lie  hod  thought  Hcom  of  uiinself,  and  hod 
ivalkuil  hiuubly  before  God.  liitt  for  soiuo  liiuo  buck  ho  had  begun  to 
compare  himself  with  other  men,  and  pride  camo  creeping  on.  Who 
knows  ?  Ho  might  have  ended  by  couiiu^  gontly  back  to  Hate.  Tho 
eonvcttk  arrested  him  on  this  bIojw.* 

Tliis  quotation  we  shall  follow  up  by  another  from  the  seveDth 
volume,  for  the  purpose  of  indic-itinf^  the  direction  which  the 
fresh  trial  of  Je.in  \'jdjenn's  faith  is  destined  to  take.  Our 
author  is  there  taking  n  bnckwnnl  glance  at  Jean  Valjf.in's 
blsfory,  and  explains  tlie  reason  of  his  leaving  the  convent  in  tlie 
foliouin^  words: — 

*  It  will  bo  romerabcred  that  Joan  Valjcan  was  happy  enough  in  tho 
convent ;  so  much  so  that  his  conscience  began  to  be  tmcasy.  Not  a 
day  passed  without  his  seeing  Coaotte.  A  fooling  of  brotherhood 
nuxrd  Rtrnnger  and  stn)Ug*>r  within  him :  his  soal  yenmod  after  thitfe 
ehihl ;  it  vv*»  his,  be  said  to  himself — nothing  oould  deprive  him  of  it 
— it  wauld  always  be  the  same — ehe  would  dunbtluss  boocmio  a  nun, 
led  on  as  she  was  to  do  so  day  by  day.  To  both  of  thum  thn  convent 
would  from  henceforth  bo  tho  imiverso;  it  was  there  that  he  woidd 

rw  old,  that  she  would  grow  up ;  that  ^o  would  grow  old,  mid  that 
would  die.  Separation,  ub  !  joyful  hopu,  was  i>nt  f»f  the  ciucstion. 
Anhf  n;flL'ct<;d  on  all  this,  he  liegan  to  be  perplexed.  Hepiitthe<]ne8tif>n 
to  himself — Was  nil  this  happiness  his  own  tliat  ho  could  do  what  ho 
Idtod  with  it  ?  Wua  it  not  made  up  of  tho  bnppinuas  of  suothor,  iho 
happiness  of  that  child,  vrhirh  hti,  a  num  on  in  years,  oonfiscated  and 
piir)i>mcd?  Was  not  nil  this  filching?  That  child,  he  bothonght 
buusolf,  IiaA  a  right  to  know  the  world  before  i-eaoanciitg  it :  that  to 
out  it  off  from  every  joy  on  pretcuco  of  saving  it  from  ovoiy  trial,  thai 


Le*  Mi$erahUs,  297 

to  make  nsq  of  its  ignorance  and  isolation  in  order  to  sow  the  seeds  of 
an  artificial  oalling,  was  to  Uiwart  the  nature  of  a  hnnuui  being  and  to 
lie  unto  God.  And  who  could  tell  but  what  Cosetto  when  ^e  came 
to  underBtond  all  that  had  happened,  and  fonnd  herself,  to  her  sorrow, 
a  nun,  might  not  end  bj  hating  liim  ?  This  last  thought  was  mora 
selfish  and  I^s  heroic  than  the  others ;  but  it  was  more  than  he  could 
bear.     He  resolved  to  quit  the  conTont.' 

Accordingly,  after  the  lapse  of  five  years,  during  which 
Cosette's  education  was  nearly  completed,  Jean  Valjean  leaves 
the  convent  But  we  have  been  anticipating  events,  and  must 
return  to  Part  III. 

'Marius,'  from  whom  it  takes  its  name,  is  the  son  of  that 
Colonel — the  Baron  de  Pontmercy — whom  Thenardier,  we  have 
said,  extricated  from  among  the  dying  and  the  dead  at  WaterloQ, 
This  Baron  de  Pontmercy  had  won  the  afiections  and  the  hand 
of  the  younger  dau^^hter  of  M.  Gillenormand,  who  stigmatised 
his  son-in-law  as  the  *  honte  de  sa  famille,'  he  being  a  rabid 
Royalist,  and  looking  upon  Napoleon  and  every  one  who  had 
served  under  him  as  objects  of  unmitigated  hate.  At  the 
Restoration  Pontmercy  was  placed  on  half-pay ;  and  consented 
to  surrender  his  motherless,  and,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
penniless  child  to  the  care  of  his  grandfather  and  maiden  aunt, 
who  lived  with  her  father,  on  the  condition  insisted  on  by  M. 
Gillenormand  that  he  should  never  attempt  to  get  speech  of  his 
child,  or  to  hold  intercourse  of  any  kind  with  the  family.  Marius 
as  a  boy  knows,  indeed,  that  bis  father  is  living ;  but  is  brought 
up  in  the  idea  that  be  is  never  to  be  mentioned,  and  that  some 
terrible  disgrace  hangs  over  him.  When  he  reaches  his  sevei^ 
teenth  year  his  father  dies,  and  it  is  only  then  that  Marius 
discovers  how  shamefully  he  had  been  maligned.  A  violent 
quarrel  ensues  between  him  and  his  grandfather,  which  ends  by 
Marius  leaving  the  house,  and  refusing  to  be  any  longer  de- 
pendent on  M.  Gillenormand  for  support.  At  heart  the  old  man 
loves  the  boy ;  but  his  temper  is  so  roused  by  the  Bonapartiste 
opinions  paraded  with  all  the  exaggeration  of  reaction  by  Marina^ 
that  the  rupture  is  complete.  VVe  now  follow  the  fortunes  of 
Marius,  who  takes  up  his  quarters  in  an  old  house,  which  is  also 
occupied  by  the  Thenardiei3,  under  the  name  of  Jondrette, 
Some  time,  however,  elapses  before  he  is  aware  of  it ;  and, 
meanwhile,  his  hard  battle  with  poverty  is  carried  on  with  a 
manly  determination  which  brings  out  all  the  force  of  his  cha- 
racter. As  M.  Victor  Hugo  well  says;  *De  fermes  et  rares 
natures  sont  ainsi  creees ;  la  misere,  presque  toujours  mariitFe,  est 
quclquefois  mere ;  le  dcnument  enfante  la  puissance  d*dme  et 
d'esprit ;  la  detresse  est  nourrice  de  la  fierte ;  le  malheur  est  un 


398 


Let  3fit^rahles. 


bim  lait  pour  les  magnonimes'  (v.  p.  30d).  It  was  now  1831. 
Mnrius  had  rCHrhed  his  twrntu'tli  year:  after  ihree  years  of  hard 
wurk  be  had  ctmtrivcd  to  wirn  bread  enough  and  to  spam.  It 
was  no  longer  a  matter  of  calculation  whether  he  couM  afl'oni  a 
few  sous  to  huy  a  cotelette,  after  having  pasflc<l  several  day* 
without  tastinc  meat.  About  this  time  his  attention  is  nttrartcd 
tinKards  a  youn(f  girl,  whom  he  racelj  day  alter  day  walking  with 
an  old  man.  Tbe  reader  will  have  guessed,  before  we  tell  him, 
tlint  these  are  Jean  Valjean  and  Cosette.  The  former  is  annoyed 
by  the  assiduity  with  which  Marius  renews  his  visits  to  th© 
Luxembourg;  and  not  only  ceases  to  go  there,  but  changes  his 
house,  on  finding  that  he  had  one  dav  l>een  followed  home.  He 
comes  across  them  again  in  a  way  he  least  expected  it.  The 
TTjenardinrs,  by  mnans  of  a  begging  letter,  had  rajolrd  VHljcan 
and  Cosette  to  come  and  sec  tliem  in  their  den,  next  door  to  tlie 
room  occupied  by  Marius.  Thcnardicr  is  not  recognised  by 
Valjcnn  ;  but  has  himself  no  difficulty  in  recognising  Valjran, 
and  lavs  a  plot  for  a  guet-ti-pnns,  the  object  of  which  is  to  extort 
money  fnjni  Valjean.  Uv  menus  of  a  tron-JutUtA^  Marius  seca 
and  hears  everything  that  goes  nn,aud  at  once  informs  the  police 

in  Oic  jicrson  of Javert!     The  scene  of  the  guet-a-pens  is 

most  exciting.  Marius  is  sorelv  perplrxeil  at  fuuling,  fnim  what 
he  overhears,  tliat  this  Thenarelier  is  the  man  whom  his  father 
had  chiirgetl  him  in  writing  to  Imc  no  f>p|H)rtunity  of  rewarding 
for  the  services  he  believed  him  to  have  rendered  at  tlic  battle  of 
Waterloo.  Jarert  had  charged  him  to  let  off  a  pistol,  as  soon  as 
ever  any  overt  act  of  violence  was  pcrpetrntcci  on  the  victim  of 
tbe  gueta-pens,  whom  Jnvert  litth*  suspccte<t  to  be  Jean  Valjean. 
Neither  does  he  make  the  discovcrv  on  the  present  occasion ;  ior 
wliile  the  police  are  busy  handcuffing  the  band  of  robbers  who 
one  after  one  bad  introduced  themselves  into  the  room,  Valjean 
makes  his  escape  thmugh  the  window.  ^  Diable !  dit  Javert 
entre  scs  dents,  cc  devait  etre  le  meilleur*  (p,  331).  With  this 
capture  of  the  Thenardiers  and  escape  of  Jean  V.iljeaii  ends  the 
Third  Part.  With  the  assistance  ol  Kponino,  a  daughter  of  the* 
Thenardiers,  who  was  not  lockMl  up  with  the  rest  of  ber  family  on 
the  occasion  of  the  guet-a-pens — and  who  nourishes  for  Marius  a 
passion,  scarct-ly  secret,  but  unreturned  by  its  object — (he  address 
of  Cosette  is  no  longer  a  setTet  to  lier  anient  lover,  Jean  Valjean 
feels  instinctively  Uiat  tlu;  young  man  who  made  him  alvindrm 
his  visits  to  the  Luxembourg  is  near  at  hand.  He  renews  tluise 
visits  for  a  <lay  or  two,  and  sees  Marius  loitering  abimt  in  the 
distance.  Victor  Hugo  df»cril>es  wiUi  great  tieauty  the  feeling 
of  despair  and  uf  dread  which  comes  over  Jean  Valjean,  as  he 
awakens  to  the  fact  that  Cosette — the  being  for  whom  he  has 

lived. 


i 


Let  Alis^mhUs. 

iivcil,  nod  exposed  himself  to  numberless  perils — tliL*  l> 
whom  he  hns  acted  tlie  part  of  father,  mother,  brother,  friend — 
the  being  who  alone  has  ocrupiKl  ami  absorbed  all  the  capacities 
of  love  and  afli;ction  which  werp  plven  to  him,  and  which  had 
lain  at  usury  without  a  sou)  on  whom  to  squander  thcnt,  till  he 
liad  rearhetl  the  threshold  of  old  a^e — that  this  Cosettc  mig;ht 
lie  takf-n  from  him;  be  claspptl  tu  another's  breast;  be  the 
object  o(  another's  love  I  The  jrahmsy  which  springs  from  a 
love  into  which  nothiui?  of  sensual  can  enter  or  ever  has  enteied 
»  always,  it  will  be  found,  akin  to  a  bitterer  hate,  a  more  sombre 
Hioruspiifss,  a  mure?  devilish  frame  of  mind  generally,  than  that 
whirli  is  bi'goUen  by  jwiloiisv  of  the  more  onlinary  ty^.  Here 
were  the  {^ltius  uf  a  fttf^h  crisis,  the  chmd  in  the  iHirticon  which 
betokened  a  coming:  storm.  For  Cosette,  meanwhile,  all  was 
brightness  and  gladness.  Marius  had  gained  access  to  the 
garden  of  die  house  in  the  Rue  Plumct,  the  scene  uf  tlie  Idvll 
which  in  part  furnishes  the  title  of  Part  IV.  Of  a  sudden  he 
heart  that  Jean  Valjean  means  to  leave  Paris,  and  go — C^scttu 
knows  not  for  certain  whither — perliaps  to  Kngland.  Driven  into 
a  comer,  Marius  pockets  his  pride,  and  asks  his  grandl'athcr  for 
the  permission  and  the  means  to  make  Cosette  his  wife.  TLe 
old  libertine  treats  the  whole  affair  as  a  silly  amourette,  and  Ids 
grandson  leaves  the  house  in  high  dudgeon,  before  M.  Oille- 
normaod  has  time  to  recover  himself  from  his  astonishment,  and  ^J 
to  call  him  bark  and  clasp  him  to  his  arms.  H 

It  is  June,  1832.     Tlic  days  of  the  emeute,  which  it  will  be  ~ 
remembered  commenced  at  the  funernl  of  General  l^a  Alarque, 
are  at  hand.      The  Kpopee  uf  tlie  Hue  St.  Denis  is  about  to  ri>ni- 
mcnce.     Mariiis,  more  from  disappointment  at  thwaited  love  than 
Irom  democratic  rage  at  stinted   UbertVt  throws  in  his  lot  with 
the  revolutionar}'  partv,  and  becomes,  in  very  wantonness,  one  of  ^ 
the  hemes  of  the  Barricade  nf  the  Rue  tie  la  Chanverie.      In  the  ^| 
thirk  of  the  fi^lit  a  letter  is  given  him  from  ("osette,  saying  lliat 
in  a  week's  tijue  she  and  her  father — so  she  was  wont  to  call  him — 
would  be  in  London.     He  tore  a  piece  of  paper  out  of  his  pocket- 
book  and  wrote  to  Cosette  to  say  that  by  tlic  time  she  received  ^J 
that  letter  his  soul  would  have  tied,  and  that  his  body  might  he  ^| 
taken  to  his  gnmdfather's,  M.  Gillenormand,  Uue  des  Filie»-ilu-  ™ 
Calvaire,  No.  (i,  au  Marais.      After  des|)atchin;;  this  remarkably 
cheerful  missive  to  Cosette  bv  the  hand  of  one  GavrocUc,  a  gnmin 
■*£c  Pari*  (one  of  the  most  charming  creations  in   the  Ixiokj,  he 
returns  to  his  post  at  the  Barricade.      Shortly  before  it  arrives  at 
its  destination^ — we  are  speaking  of  Marius's  note,  not  his  Imdy — 
Jean  Valjean,  who  was  htigging  in  secret  the  i<lea  of  a  voyage  to 
England,  which  would  rid  him,  as  he  hoped,  of  Marius,  and  nip 

ill 


I 


A 


L&  Alitdrabki. 


in  thf  bad  any  lurking^  Icoling  wliich  Cosotte  mif^lit  possiblr 
mtciiain  in  return,  was  suddcalj  an'estcd,  ns  he  pu-od  up  nntl 
dtmn  tJie  room,  bv  a  strange  Hpcctacle  which  met  his  eye.  He 
happened  to  be  looking  into  a  miiTor  which  surmountml  tlie  side- 
ixmd,  and  there  read,  in  so  uianv  words,  the  five  lines  which 

'Cofleite,  in  the  hurry  of  quittinj^  the  Ituc  Plarnct,  had  written  to 
her  lover,  jwirtly  to  tell  iiim  of  thoir  new  abode,  and  partly,  u 
we  have  seen,  to  let  him  know  that  they  were  Imnnd  for  London. 
The  m^-stery  is  soon  snlved.  CtwettP,  who  had  [jonc  ujt&tairs 
into  Iter  room  under  pretence  of  a  migraine,  which  in  reality 
was  nothinf;  but  crossed  love,  had  left  on  the  sideboard  the 
lilottin{;-bnok  which  she  ha<l  brou^rht  with  her  iixim  tlie  Rue 
Pluinct,  and  on  which  she   had  drird   tlic   aforesaid  inrti?.      TTic 

limprcasioii  was  of  rourse  rcversfd  :  but  this  the  mirror  ren- 
dered legible,  and  tlius  preseutt-d  to  the  astonittheil  eye  of  Jean 
Vnljcnn.  The  description  of  the  old  man's  agony  of  mind  fur- 
nishes the  theme  of  a  chapter  almost  as  grand  as  that  which  wc 
analysed  at  length  when  M.  Madeleine  was  on  ihc  e\'e  of  sur- 
rendering him&eir  to  save  Chauipmatliicu.  One  might  have 
thnught   that  idter  so   many   severe  trials  his  conscience  would 

ijiavc  become  as  it  were  seasoned  ;  but  it  was  not  so.  'Cost  qot 
Aq  tonles  Ics  tortures  qu'il  avait  subic^  dans  cette  longuc  i:[uc»- 
tinn  que  lui  donnait  la  dcstlnee,  celle-ci  etait  la  plus  re<loutable. 
Jamais  parcille  tenaille  ne  I'avait  saisi.  U  sentit  le  remuemenC 
mysterieux  de  toutes  les  seiisibilites  latentes.  II  sentit  le  plncfs 
ment  de  la  rd>rL-  inconnue.  Ilelas,  I'epreuve  supreme,  di«>ns 
micux,  I'tjpreuve  utdque,  c'est  la  perte  de  I'ctre  aime  I '  (p.  4^). 
In  the  midst  of  this  gloom  and  (le?(]).iir  nhich  seem  to  freexe  up 
the  issues  of  life,  the  letter  which  Mnrius  luid  sent  by  Gavroche 
readies  the  house  and  falls  into  tlie  hands  of  Valjean.  With 
almost  tiendisb  glee  he  chuckles,  as  he  reads  it,  at  the  thought  of 
Marius  being  dead  :  he  resolves  to  keep  the  note  in  his  pa<-ket — 
CosettP  would  be  none  tlie  wiser.  Her  lover  would  be  dis]M>sed 
of,  and  he  (Valjean)  would  onc<?  more  be  at  peace.      ITie  sound 

|«f  liring  moile  him  put  on  his  uniform  of  a  garde  nationalc  and 
Stroll  out,  musket  in  hand,  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

How  Jean  Valjean  passed  through  the  ordeid  which  this  di>- 
covery  of  the  elumlestine  iove-paasnges  between  Marius  and 
Cosctte  liad  laid  upon  him,  is  die  subject  of  the  two  euncbiding- 
voluiiP's,  or  Part  V.  By  the  time  lliut  he  arrived  at  llie  Hue  de  la 
Clinnverie,  the  defenders  of  the  Barricades  were  sorely  reduced  io 
number :  Marius  was  still  alive,  and  Javert,  who  in  an  early  stage- 
of  the  proceedings  hod  come  among  them  as  a  spy  and  had  been 
detected  by  Gavroche,  was  not  yet  shot,  though  still  a  prisoner. 
We  cannot  follow  the  incidents  of  the  street-fight  through  all  lis 

revolting 


: 


Let  Mi$^aifk$.  301 

roToltin]^  and  bloody  fletails.  Suffice  it  to  sa;  ilmt  Jrnn  Valjnm, 
who  hud  tftkra  do  part  in  the  frar  beyond  exposing:  his  pvrsun  to 
dnngrr  and  drcMing;  the  wounds  of  those  who  nere  less  t'urtunale 
tlinii  liiiiisM'If,  puds  hy  Irttinff  .Iiivprt  escape  nn<l  bv  rnnvin^  off 
Mariu!i,  faint  ivitli  Inssof  tilood,  ihrniifrh  t!ie  manhiilr*  nf  the  preat 
sewer  of  I'arig.  He  no  Buoiirr  emci^fs  fnnn  it,  nfler  advpiitnrt^ 
and  hnirbrcftdtb  esiapcs  almost  as  startling;  as  thojje  they  lad 
recpiitly  mpt  with  alwve  ground,  than  ho  finds  himself  once  moic 
ronfmntrd  by  the  ubiquiums  Javert  His  first  cnre  is  lo  lake  the 
almost  lif(dr&a  body  of  Marlus  to  his  grand fnlher,  whose  a<!dit'ss 
he  hnd  learnnl  fi-oin  the  intercepted  n<ite  sent  bv  Marius  to  (^>setie. 
He  thf  n  expresses  his  readiness  to  put  himself  in  Javeri's  custodv  ; 
but  Javert  lets  him  jjo — an  act  of  such  abnormal  dercliflion  of 
duty,  that  it  drives  its  author  to  commit  siiiride.  Life  had  in  his 
eyes  lost  its  rafson  d'rtrr,  and  nnture  was  out  of  course  when  a 
criminal  was  allowed  to  escajtc  the  grrip  of  the  law.  The  last 
volume  is  filled  with  the  conralcscence  of  Marias  and  his  marringe 
with  Cosette,  who  receives  from  Jenn  Valjcnn  a  dowry  nf  sis 
hundrett  thtiusand  francs.  Once  more  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
had  ^aineil  the  victorv  orer  selfishness — love  ox*er  hate,  TTie 
Mirice  of  (iod,  to  which  (he  Bishop's  parting-  words  had,  na  it 
weKf  devoted  him,  had  notlwcn  in  his  case  perfect  freedom  ;  but, 
looner  or  later,  that  service  had  been  |>a)d.  But  one  more  act  of 
inar^rdom  awaited  him  :  he  feels  it  to  be  his  duty  to  tell  Mnrius 
that  he  Is  a  lihrrated  convict,  Afarius  receive*  the  Intellirrrncc 
with  nnytliing^  but  ptnianinntv.  iintl  tlierc  results  n  WKiIiirss  ln-tMifn 
him  and  Jtmii  Valjcan  wliii:h  ultimatrlv  roinmuiiicates  itjM-lf  lu 
Cosctte,  and  poor  Jean  Valjcan  discovers  that  he  is  de  trap. 
He  dnips  his  visit  to  Cosettc,  an<I  worn  out  in  body  and 
mind,  remains  at  hnnin  to  die  of  a  liroken  heart.  As  Nfariits 
leania  (hat  the  suspicions  which  he  had  i-um^ived  as  (u  the 
origin  of  his  wife's  dowry,  when  he  heard  that  Jean  Vidjeon 
had  been  a  conHct,  were  without  foun<liition,  and  further,  tliat 
the  man  who  liad  saved  his  iiJc  ond  conveyed  him  fmm  the  Ifeir- 
tieodes  to  bis  gcandfather*s  housc^  and  whom  he  had  in  vain 
endeavoured  to  discover,  was  no  oOicr  than  this  same  Jean  Valjcan, 
stung  with  remorse  for  his  cold,  churlish  treatment  of  one  to  whom 
he  owed  so  much,  he  hurries  with  Cosctte  to  Valjcnn's  lodgings, 
but  onlv  in  time  to  receive  his  last  blessing  and  hear  his  Inst  siirh. 
Thus  have  we  endeavoured  to  conduct  the  reader  through  the 
labyrinth  of  this  Titan  tale,  making  use  all  the  while  of  the  clue 
to  it*  intricacies  whirh  we  believe  the  author  intended  to  be  fup- 
nishcd  by  the  successive  crises  in  the  career  of  Jean  Valjcan. 
The  whole  history  of  this  extraordinary  man,  as  rerortlrd  in  tlw 
ten  volumes  before  us,  is  but  the  development  of  tltat  injunction 

which 


Let  MithaUea. 


wbicK  tlie  nishup  gave  him.  when,  by  an  act  of  sif^oal  cUmracy, 
he  iTfloimcd  him  Irom  the  dotrnward  path  of  a  brutalised  con- 
sciencr,  and  set  him  with  bis  face  toward  Hcarca-^on  that 
onward,  upward  path,  that  o£ov  ^I'lu,  as  Plato  calls  it,  which 
leads  lilvo  Jacx^b  s  ladder,  up  to  God.  On  the  last  ronnd  of 
that  ladder  we  leavp  him,  no  lon^pr  troubled  by  the  persiH:ution* 
of  n  Jnvcrt,  or  hoartbrokpu  by  the  in^^ratitade  of  a  Cosettc. 

As  we  cast  a  Iwckwfird  glance  and  suney  the  ground  we  have 
traveriiHl,  we  tlilnk  the  reader  will  ndmit  that  if  the  tale  wr 
lutvc  unfoldfil  befori!  liiin  be  indtn-d  a  wondrous  maze,  it  Is  not 
without  a  |)lan  which  wittiessrs  to  the  artistic  power  of  it* 
nuthor.  It  »?ems  to  us  that  nothing  but  the  inconsiderate  hiuti- 
ncM  witli  which  incKlcrn  criticism  is  in  ihr^  habit  i>f  tosaiiig-  off 
II  jud[;infnL  on  the  works,  great  or  smiill,  whirh  come  uuiIlt  its 
kLMi,  run  luxouiit  Un  the  blinibtcss  whii:h,  so  for  as  we  know,  has 
every  where  been  hliowu  n'sjiectiiiiy  the  leading  idea  which  forms 
as  it  were  the  trunk-line  of  the  work.  But  the  merits  of  Lit 
Mix^rabtit  do  not  merely  consist  in  tlic  conception  uf  it  at  a 
whole;  it  abounds,  [wgc  after  jrage,  with  details  of  un(^quBlleU 
beauty.  VVe  feel  hound  to  ^a\  that  we  know  of  ni>thing  in  the 
whole  conijiass  of  F*'rencli  titi^niture  which  can  even  be  compared 
with  such,  chnptem  as  those  entitled  '  Le  dedans  du  desespoir/ 

*  L'ondc  ct  Tombre,*  and  'Petit  Ger^ais,'  in  the  first  volume; 

*  Une  tcmpC'te  sous  un  crune  '  and  '  Batons  dans  les  roues,'  in  the 
•ccomi  volume;  'La  cudeni*,'  in  the  seventh  volume;  'Buvnrd, 
Ittvard,'  in  the  eighth  ;  and  '  Ininiortnlc  Jecur,'  in  the  tenth. 
The  power  which  they  so  transcendently  display  is  not  merely 
tlinereiit  in  degree,  it  is  different  in  kind,  from  anything  in  the 
langiuige  nt  any  pcriot)  of  '\ks  history.  Michelet,  indeed,  in 
som*^  passages  of  his  '  Histoirc  dc  Fmnce,'  suggests  a  |ianillc], 
but  on  closer  examination  it  will  be  found  t1tat  one  cardinal  dis- 
tinction prevents  us  from  pursuing  the  parallel  any  further.  Tb* 
proceu  which  pre»ide<l  over  tlie  cradle  of  all  language,  and 
which  embodied  tlie  abstract  emotions  of  the  mind  in  terms  bor- 
rowed from  the  concrete  material  world,  is  one  wliich  also  prg- 
si(h!s  over  that  inexhaustible  fund  of  imagery  widi  which  every 
jKigr  of  Victor  Hugo  is  rife.  His  metaphors  are  almost  uni- 
formly the  carn/iitff  over  of  thn  invisible  into  the  vi&ible  world. 
With  Michelet  it  will  be  found  the  converse  is  the  case:  and  this 
^lifferenre  5*i  affects  the  stvie,  that  Victor  Hugo  i&  still  left 
without  any  tine  to  whom  we  can  liken  him.  By  no  wriler  since 
the  time  of  ItiiliL'lais  have  itie  capabilities  of  tlie  French  Ian- 
jguage  been  set  furtli  to  such  advantage — never  beft>re  have  so 
much  btm<-'  and  muwie  bepn  laid  bare.  Some  French  critic — 
M.  Cuvillier  Fleury,  if  we  remember  right — has  said  tlmt,  in  the 

presence 


Zw  Mis^rabht. 


308 


ftroBence  of  the  author  of '  Lea  Misrrahlts^'  his  reader*  m\ist  fi-cl 
ikp  the  Lilliputians  in  the  hnmU  of  Gulliver.  The  coinparison 
is  a  ven*  just  one.  Victor  Hugo's  mintl  is  cssciitinlly  Titanic; 
he  is  morp  nt  h«»inc,  slujws  nuirr  ptiwer,  wlirrc  he  is  dealing  with 
cnnrcptitins  uf  n  superhuman  chanicLcr,  than  H'hrn  lie  dwells 
nm'Mijf  ordinary  men.  And  yet  the  ten<lerni><is  the  grace,  ihe 
pallios  which  he  brings  to  hear  on  his  desmplion  ni'  rhildren, 
are  no  less  wondertVd  than  the  grandeur  of  Jiis  style  and  the 
majesty  uf  his  gait  when  dealing  with  the  colossal  and  tbc  super- 
human. Hut,  while  thus  at  home  with  j)Igmics  nnd  ginnCs  he 
screms  at  times  to  he  lacking  In  what  Pascal  soiuPwhiTo  mils 
'  IViitredeux.*  His  creations  of  men  and  womcii,  kucIi  iis  we 
meet  with  in  evcrvdav  life,  lav  themselves  open  to  criticism,  as 
being  tvpes  of  a  class  rather  than  individuals  with  dehnitely 
marked  outlines  of  their  own.  This,  however,  is  a  defect  which 
rlinnieterises  all  the  works  of  llouiance  literatuiv,  as  euntmstetl 
with  thai  of  Teutonic  races. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretteil  that  a  work  almunding  with  beauties 
of  such  a  very  high  onler,  and  destined  to  occupy  a  permanent 
place  in  the  liteniture  of  I'rancc,  should  have  been  tiYiV/A/n/,  in 
its  pissnge  to  jioslerity,  with  so  many  digressions  and  so  much 
nonsense.  So  little  have  tliese  last  to  do  widi  the  development 
of  the  sttiry  that  at  the  commencement  of  this  article  we  assertisl 
our  right  to  assign  them  to  a  distinct  author,  in  order  that  we  might 
ilie  more  completely  dist^mharruss  ourselves  of  them  in  following 
up  the  leading  idea  of  the  story  from  the  commencement  to  the 
close.  To  <\o  this,  however,  our  course  I'rom  the  end  of  the 
second  volume  onwards  has  In-ch  a  stccplrrhasc  of  a  very  anhtous 
kinil.  At  the  very  opening  of  the  third  vnlume  we  had  to  clear 
at  a  jump  upwanis  of  one  hnndre<l  and  fifty  |iag4's  on  the  Intllc 
of  Waterloo,  to  which  justice  has  I>cen  done  in  iuioih*.'r  part  of 
this  number  of  the  '  (^arterly  Review.'  \Vc  then  come  in  the 
fourth  T4»Iume  to  about  one  hunilrMl  nnd  f<irly  pngrs  on  convents 
in  general,  ami  on  the  Tronvent  (if  tliir  Uur  Picpns  in  [larticular. 
No  one  can  di^ny  tlint  tht^se  pagt^  are  not  destitute  of  beauties  of 
the  very  higliest  order,  and  bifathc  an  amount  nnd  <lepth  of 
what  we  believe  to  be  genuine  religious  feeling,  in  its  way, 
which  those  who  onlv  know  Victm-  Mugii  by  what  they  read  in 
reviews  and  newspji]«'r»  wouM  scarcely  \tc  preparml  Ut  inert 
with.  We  alhidni*spccri:illy  to  the  chapter  on  I'l.ivi-r.  Ihil  then 
tliese  beauties,  though  neither  sparse  nor  slight,  lose  half  tlicir 
charm  by  losing  all  their. ((/'r<>pfw.  Tlie  digi-cssions,  however,  do 
not  cease  Iwre.  At  the  cumrneneement  of  the  sevnilh  volume 
wo  have  nearly  a  hundred  |>ages  on  the  causes  wliich  let)  to  tlie 
/■mmti-s  ()f  June,  1832;  an<I  tlie  account   of  the  Jounii'es  des 

Vol.  112. — No.  224.  X  Itan-iiiidt's 


304  Ltd  MitSrabks. 

BorricaUcs  tbcrasolvcis — though  grand  beyond  nil  conr^'ptirtn — U, 
ofter  alt,  only  a  digrcwiou^  mid  n  dipression  wlurh  rxtc-ndt  over 
sotnr  (i\e  hundred  ]>uges.  Nur  is  this  nil,  At  iin(!  of  the  most 
critical  perinds  of  the  st^iry,  just  when  Ji>an  Valjc^in  hn»  effected 
bis  CM'ajic  wllli  Mnriusi  in  Ills  JU-ina  frimi  l\w  purbuit  ot  the 
suidli^ry,  wu  «io  treat<il  to  aiiotliur  hundred  pagcn  on  the  vftln- 
oblc  uses  to  which  the  sewage  of  large  towns  migltl  \n'  put. 
From  one  of  tliesc  numerous  digressiima  wc  aro  tiMiipU-tl  lo 
oxtract  a  few  pogca,  which  will  lie  r^-ad,  wo  Im-IItvc,  with  all  tlir 
intorcst  which  is  due  both  to  thn  subject  and  lo  tlie  author.  We 
nlludu  to  Victor  Hugo's  charnrtcr  of  Louis  Fhilipiief  which  hoa 
deservedly  been  cansldcrnl  one  o(  the  molt  remarkable  passagM 
in  the  entire  work : — 

*  The  eon  of  a  fiither  to  whom  history  will  certainly  awanl 
"  ftttonwittng  ciroumetances,"  but  as  worthy  of  esteem  as  thiu  &thor 
had  been  worthy  of  blame  ;  having  all  private  and  most  puhUo  virluea  ; 
rorcful  of  his  hcaltli,  his  fortune,  his  poraoo,  and  hU  oraura ;  knowing 
tlui  vnlnu  of  H  minuto,  not  always  tbo  trIuo  of  a  year ;  kanporato, 
MTuno,  uoBy-going.  patient ;  a  good  mao  and  a  good  prince  ;  Hlucping 
vrttli  bin  vnfa,  and  having  in  Ida  polooo  sorvauti  whoso  bimlncgs  it  woh 
ti)  nbow  huinblor  pcoplo  his  conjunjU  couch — on  ostciitatinu  uf  hud- 
wniil  regularity  wuioh  wiM  not  wltli<iut  itH  nso  after  the  illicit  con- 
nexions of  tlio  cider  branch ;  knowing  cvciy  language  in  £iux>tK),  luid 
— mmr  Rtill^not  only  knowing  bat  spc-aldng  the  langimgo  oi  every 
intorost:  an  admirablo  ropreBcntativo  of  the  "Midillo  Clmts,"  but 
I'Tcrioppiug  it,  ouil  in  cvuiy  neuso  itii  fiUjicrior;  having  tlie  iidmimblo 
tart,  whilci  prizing  tito  blood  in  his  veinB,  to  rate  himpudf  at  hi* 
iiilrinHto  mluo,  nnd,  even  in  the  matter  of  race,  pimotilious  to  a  degree, 
colling  himself  an  Orloaua  and  not  a  Bourbon:  vtty  much  indeod 
of  n  FiiMt  Prinoo  of  the  Blood  iill  the  time  ho  was  only  "  His  Serene 
HighncRs,"  but  ninking  into  tbo  plain-«pokcn  bourgeois  as  soon  aa 
ho  was  YourH^osty  :  difhuoiu  public,  concieo  in  a  room;  stigmatisod 
as  u  taiscr,  hut  iwt  jmncn  sn  ;  at  bnttrtm  one  of  ibijae  ocrntomicul  innn 
who  wonhl  Bpcnd  mthout  ft  thought  if  fenoy  prompted  or  doty  eallwl; 
k'ttcrul,  but  with  no  tm^to  for  lottent ;  a.  man  of  birth,  without 
chividr}' ;  uiiuplo,  rahn,  mul  (Strong;  adtirod  by  bin  family  and  his 
liouHcliold :  nn  excellent  tulkcr,  as  a  statesman  not  susceptible  of 
illnsions,  no  fire  in  his  brcnst,  a  alave  to  the  interests  of  the  moment, 
govomiug  from  hand  to  month,  inirapable  of  a  gruilgu  or  uf  gratitude, 
woaring  put  talent  ogiunst  mediocrity,  clever  at  plnying  off  porlia- 
montaty  minorities  against  thoso  myBtorlous  unanimities  which  keop 
growling  Iwueath  a  thruno ;  open-}iuart«d,  Kuniuliucs  opcoi  t^i  tlia 
TBTgo  t>f  iiiijtruilouee,  hut  ejilching  himself  when  thus  tripping  with 
wondcifnl  uddiuis  ;  fertile  in  iinding  cxjiodiuutK,  and  in  piittiitg  on  a 
faee  oud  a  liuiak:  iiialdng  £)ui-()}io  a  hugbear  to  Fnuieo,  and  Fi-anco  lo 
Eur*iiwi:  liiv-iiig  Kyund  all  difqvuto  hia  oouatry,  but  iircforrlng  hia 
fiuuily ;  priziug  iuiwt«:ry  mure  Ihun  uathurity,  nud  antliority  moro  titan 

dignily — 


4 


XiW  dfunttHM. 


S05 


■ligni^— s  tondenoy  thin  wliich  ifl  eo  fiur  nntoward,  that,  boing  >)eiit  on 
ocnnpMHUig  «DO(»a(i,  it  ooantii  cunning  among  its  imftrumciitH  anJ  dooe 
not  oxoltule  baaouMs,  but  which  is  6o  liu-  tenofioiol  thai  it  {irusctrTee 
the  polioj  of  a  oonntry  trnm  violont  crises,  tho  state  &om  fmctiin«, 
ftud  society  from  catiuirophpg ;  jwiinststking.  accurate,  Tigilaut, 
Attontiro,  aagodoiu,  iuiloiatigalilij ;  t(onuitimo&  giving  hinu^cU  tho  Lio ; 
ithdtring  n  buhl  frout  to  Anittria  nt  Aucono,  mnJdng  a  dood  act  at 
Kugliuid  in  Spun,  bonitmrdinff  Antwerp  and  paying  Pritchard ; 
inning  the  M&raoilUise  and  «ngin^  it  with  zcet ;  inaooostiiblu  to 
(lojoctinn,  Ungiior,  to  a  tiiHto  for  tiio  Bc««tifid  mid  tbo  Ideal,  to 
{iieonsidorate  generosity,  to  Utopian,  (o-chimioras,  to  anger,  to  vanity, 
and  to  fear;  capable  of  every  ImoTni  form  of  poraonol  valour;  at 
Vabnya  genoml,  at  JemntHpen  a  cnnimon  Boldior:  eight  times  the  bntt 
of  a  ngioido,  and  novcr  nith  a  smilo  off  his  £^o ;  bravo  aa  a  grenadier, 
oounigcoua  as  a  thinker ;  ncvtir  uucAsy  but  at  tba  prnspoot  of  a 
Karopaui  conTulainii,  aud  ill-snitod  for  groat  political  Bchetnes  ; 
aln-ajit  ready  to  ri&k  his  life,  aever  his  throne ;  nuUdng  Iuh  will  fult 
rather  Uiau  suiii,  tlut  tho  obodieuco  might  l>o  p»id  bi  the  luliiit  mero 
than  to  tlio  monarch;  gifkid  with  observation,  not  with  dirination; 
not  tronbling  Uiui»iolf  about  carrcnts  of  thonght,  but  a  good  jndgu  of 
men,  tliat  ia,  forcctl  to  see  Ifuforo  ho  coald  duuide ;  full  of  gmid  Kcutnc, 
prompt  and  kixju,  of  practical  wisdom,  ready  of  speech  and  witli  n 
prodigious  memory ;  to  that  memory  having  hourly  reoottrse — hl» 
only 'point  of  roftorobhuico  with  CajBor,  Alexander,  and  Nuimlcou; 
knowing  facts,  details,  dntes,  names,  but  ignorant  of  the  tendonciofl, 
^  passions,  tbo  habits  of  thought  of  the  moltitade,  tho  iuvrord  aspi- 
rations, thu  hiddun  and  ohHOoro  formontBtiuns  of  tho  auul,  in  a  word, 
of  oTorything  which  might  bo  colled  tho  invisible  currontB  of  tho 
oonscienco;  occeptod  by  the  surfoco  of  Frnuco,  but  not  much  liked 
by  the  lower  strata;  getting  out  of  tho  diQlctiUy  by  liuutuiing; 
governing  too  mnch  and  not  reigning  enough;  his  owii  rrcmicT; 
acxttin)iw  at  Hti-mmiDg  tlio  inuneoHity  of  ideas  witli  tho  trifloB  of 
riiiUiticM:  combining  a  gcnuino  creative  power  of  civUiBfttimi,  order, 
and  organiaatiou  with  n  kind  of  pcttifoggiBg  and  quibbling  spirit;  Uiu 
foitndcr  and  the  Pri>eiirr'.ur  ef  a  dynasty ;  having  in  him  a,  dash  of 

!!har1oroagnu  and  n  dn^h  of  iin  nttornoy  :  in  a  wmxl,  o  man  of  \o(tj 
original  mind,  a  prince  who  nuide  his  role  felt  in  Kpito  of  Ltio 
nnoastnoRS  of  iFmnoo,  and  his  inSuence  in  spito  of  tho  jcaloosy  of  _ 

Europe  Louis  Philippe  will  bo  classod  among  the  eminent  men  of' 
bis  tunc,  and  would  bo  mngcd  among  thu  iUuHtrioutt  Huloru  of  hiHtury, 
_if  ho  had  only  liod  a  little  Invo  of  gltuy,  and  tf  his  mind  hod  boua  as 

luoh  imbned  with  a  symxaitby  for  what  wan  great  as  with  a  scnitt  of 

rhat  was  uscfoL' 

Many  nmre  pages  follow.  Thi*  whole  is  wound  uji  by  tlw 
foIlowiDg  toufluiig  words  :— 

*  lionis  Pliilippo  ha'nng  l«X'n  jndgod  sovoroly  by  smuo,  harshly  by 
others,  it  is  only  natural  thut  one  who  has  known  that  monarch,  nud  who 
is  biniaelf  at  prosont  notliing  niuro  tluut  a  shadowy  boing,  Rliould  ocimo 

x'i  aiMi 


* 


and  giTe  hia  cviileneo  for  Iiim  tn  tlio  faoo  ot  History.  TUfi  ovide 
bo  it  what  it  may,  is  nt  least  disintetoeted :  nno  K)i»lnw  may  be 
ftUovod  to  coQfolo  another ;  to  eharo  a  ocmuiKm  dArkne&a  gi^^ea  h  nglit 
to  ptftifio :  and  wo  neud  not  fuar  uf  its  bolng  ssid  of  two  tombe  m  exilo : 
Tms  one  flattered  tho  other.*  ^^ 

On  the  social  and  pitlltit^  opinions  of  which  these  numcroia^l 
dip'essions  arr  mnde  ibp  vehicle,  it  is  difTicull  for  an  Kngtishraan 
tn  speak    wltliout  inii«itirnr(?   bhiI   surprise  ;^imi>ation«>  at   the 
nmnzin^  ig-norantrc  of  tlie  rudimcntii  of  social  and  political  philo- 
sophy which  even  such  a  man  as  Victor  Hugo  displays  in  m'ei^r 
line ;   surprise  at  the  stolidity  which  prevents  the  author  from 
sccinij  that  the  events  which  are  cither  the  pretext  i»r  the  caos^H 
of  his  becoming;  and  mnainin};   an  i-zile  werL*  Imt   the   rmtnra|^| 
and   only  jiossihle    fruit   of  those  doe  I  ri  hits.,    which   are   paradw} 
witli  so  much  I'tnpluiais  aiul  apparent  sincerity.      Not  otten  has 
preatcr  genius  been  placed  at  the  service  of  greater  nonsense. 
Had  wc  followed  the  example  of  certain  critics  of  *Les  Mis^ 
Tablet,*  we  should  have  initulged  in  ridicule  of  thi^se  digressions 
and  tliis  nonsense,  tti  the  ext-lusioii  of  alinust  all  that  reallv  cun- 

stitutc*  tlvc   true   beauty    anil    grandeur   of  the   work.      Nothing 

could  have  been  easier  than  such  a  task.  Possibly  the  love  o^H 
detraction,  which  holds  so  firm  a  place  in  the  human  heftrt,^^ 
might  have  rendered  tliis  treatment  more  palatable  to  the  public 
than  that  which  we  have  adopted.  We  venture  lo  think,  how- 
ever, tliat  we  have  cliosen  the  Ijetter — we  arc  certain  tliat  wc 
have  i-hosen  the  more  IalM>rinus — jwrt.  Wc  liold,  wilb  Winekel- 
maiu),  that,  of  all  canons  of  criticism,  tme  <if  the  most  important 
to  bear  in  mind  Is  this — always  lo  set  yourself  to  find  out  what 
Is  beautiful  in  a  work  of  art  before  you  begin  to  criticise  the 
defects.  'Wliatevcr  may  be  tlie  blemishes  observable  in  tliis 
work — and  we  have  not  been  slow  to  point  them  out — it  lican 
undoulitiHl  traces  of  having  lieeu  tlie  produce  of  much  litinest 
toil,  and  many  noble  aspirations.  Qualities  such  at  these  am 
not  of  such  common  occurrence  that  we  should  treat  their  pot* 
sensor  with  sarcasm  and  contempt  because  he  indulges  at  times 
in  extravagances  which  test  the  patience  of  the  reader. 


Art.  II. —  The    Phfome  Diaioqves  for   EntfUsh    Rftuiers.     II 
William  Whewell,  D.D.     3  Vols.     185y-l»r»l. 

IT  is  one  of  Mr.  Kuskln's  dicta  that  ^in  intelligent  and  rightly 
breil  youth  or  girl  ought  to  enjoy  much  even  in  Plato  by  the 
time  they  are  fifteen  or  sixteen.'  Dr.  Wljewell  is  not  less 
sanguine  in  his  expectations.     He  has  octctl  on  the  supposition 

tlwt 


d 


7%e  Platomc  Dialogues. 


ao7 


tliat  'a  loi^  portion  of  the  Platonic  Dialoefues'  can  '  be  mnde 
intelligible  and  even  inttTt-stinj^  to  oniinary  readers  of  Eiif^lisk 
literature'  We  s^itijiutUIxt'  witli  him  in  his  h()|H'>  anil  we 
applaud  the  spirit  of  his  uiidertiiliiiijf.  It  inay  Ih-,  indf*-'d,  Uiat 
bis  endeavour  to  jiopularize  the  '  wa^  of  thinking  *  known  as 
Greek  Philosophy  is  not  throughout  inspired  witli  ilie  highcat 
reverence  for  the  genius  of  these  writing*,  which  he  pruces 
chiefly  for  their  educational  value.  He  has  not  '  unspnercd 
tlie  spirit'  of  thir  freat  Athrnian.  Hut  the  work  presents  wa 
many  traces  of  a  genuine  liking  and  ab/ukst  entliusinsm  for 
Flato,  an<l  in  many  parts  is  executed  with  so  inuch^ vigour, 
that  we  desire  to  accept  it  cordially,  not  only  as  an  additionjil 
proof,  if  that  wxrc  needed,  of  the  xmiversality  of  its  author's 
interests  and  powers,  but  as  a  timely  contribution  to  the  Platonic 
literature  of  our  country. 

There  was  certainly  nioin  enough  in  England  for  a  fresh 
attrmpt  to  make  Plato  acce&stble  to  those  who  eiumol  *  enjoy' 
him  in  the  original.  Until  late  years  the  only  English  trans- 
lauon  of  the  whole  of  Plato's  works  was  that  in  five  thick  quarto 
volumes  by  Sydenham  and  Taylor  (1804).  Sydenham's  dialc^es 
(including  the  Symposium,  Mcno,  and  Pbilebus)  leave  compara- 
tively liule  to  he  desin^cl ;  but  unfortunately  tlir  great  Iiiilk  of  the 
work  is  done  by  Taylor,  wht>,  though  he  has  turntil  some  things 
gracefully,  is  frenuently  deficient  both  in  style  and  aeeuracy. 
Shelley's  Symposinm  is  in  parts  exquisite  in  point  of  langujigc 
and  rhythm,  but  he  has  fallen  into  some  errora  which  were 
avoided  by  Sydenham.  More  recently  a  complete  version  of  the 
DialogUL-s  by  different  hands  has  liet-n  published  by  Mr.  llohn. 
Tlie  three  volumes  are  of  unequal  merit,  but  none  of  them  can 
pi*tend  to  first-rate  excellence.  To  these,  and  to  the  elegant 
little  volume  of  Selections  in  which  Lady  Chatterton  has  brought 
together  some  of  the  most  impressive  passages  of  Plato,  translatctl 
by  herself,  we  can  only  allude  in  passing.  Besides  thesi*,  two  trans- 
lations of  separal(!  dialogues  have  lately  appeared,  which  have  a 
more  serious  claim  to  lie  considered  :  of  the  *  Ilepublic,'  by  Mi-ssrs. 
Diivies  and  Vauglian,  late  Fellowsof  Trinity  College,  Cambrldije; 
and  of  the  '  I'hilebus,'  by  E.  Poste,  Esq.,  Fellow  of  Oriel  College, 
Oxford.  The  first-named  publication  is  already  passing  through 
a  second  edition,  and  is  undoabte«lly  a  very  meritorious  work. 
But  it  ran  scarcely  convey  to  a  rwider  who  is  unacquainted 
with  the  Greek  anything  like  an  adequate  impression  of  thn 
p«ietical  and  dramatic  power  manifested  in  the  '  Republic.'  TIio 
peru&al  of  it  will  convince  any  one  who  is  familiar  with  the 
original  how  difficult  it  is  even  for  good  scholars  tu  translate 
Plato.     The  art  of  translating  is  like  the  art  of  preser\'ing :  it 


1* 


308  The  Platmie  Dialoguts. 

is  Jmpouible  lo  keep  the  colour  anil  tbc  Arom&  in  thi>: 
I'rosLucss,  and  yvX  tlic  dcgr^-c  in  wliicli  this  |>oinl  is  ajtpronr 
tlir  test  nC  skill.  Miiny  (if  tUr  finrr  tuuclies  of  Plato's  iniulerpiece 
hflVL-  ili.saiiiicut-(-il  in  lliifi  rnpv,*  Mr.  Posle  has  beon  nmtv  boo 
cMsful.  His  verBiuii,  whik*  fafilidi<tu8ly  accumlc,  cfjmbiiiM  tk 
c-fTtnia  antique  <H|>tiity  with  case  and  smoothness.  Still  it  tnatea 
a  little  too  much  like  the  dried  fniiu  The  *  Philchtii'  could  not 
by  nny  rattans  be  presented  to  English  readers  os  a  [>opul»r 
trrntise  ;  hut  wltli  all  the  rninplexity  of  its  m:issivc  structure,  it 
Lns  n  li^lit  and  ^Tnrefu)  beauty  and  an  }uimioiuuus  iimvement, 
which  wi:  would  fain  liave  seen  inure  |>i;rfcrtly  rcnderal. 

The  Platonic  Jlialofrues,  as  Dr.  Whcwoll  h^  iutr»du(*i?d  t3»i?m 
to  us,  come  bd'ore  ua  witli  a  more  eoRiic:in(?  air.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  they  a0brd  very  pleasant  reading.  They  have  no 
lack  of  |)crspicuity,  nor  of  freshness  and  vigour  of  expression. 
If  other  tmnslators,  in  preserving-  some  niet't^  of  uuTuung-,  have 
occasionally  sufltTwl  some  of  the  pitli  and  force  of  llir  ori*cinal 
to  escape  uem,  Dr.  Whewell,  by  kiN<ping  a  tough  hold  of  his 
author's  drift,  and  of  the  Saxon  itliom,  moves  with  a  firm 
step,  even  where  he  may  have  tixi  hastily  let  po  the  finer  clue  of 
literal  interpretation.  But,  as  we  have  already  liintcd,  wr  11x1 
a  want  in  n'adinp  him  which  troubles  ns  moiT  than  miiitnkcs 
of  f:oilstrulng.  The  translator  lins  not  suHirient  faith  in  hi* 
author.  For  what  Wordsworth  sara  of  the  poet  applies  with  at 
least  equal  force  Ut  the  phtlosupher:  *Vou  must  love  him,  rre 
lo  von  he  will  seem  worthy  of  your  love,'  And  Dr.  Whewell 
is  not  in  the  fullest  sense  a  lover  of  Plato.  Either  his  mind 
has  not  been  cast  in  the  same  imai^inatirc  monld,  or  possibly  a 
wholesome  n-artion  against  the  high-flying"  intrrprrtiTs  has 
carried  liim  a  liftli*  Urn  far.  Whatever  mav  Ix'  the  cause,  ho  does 
not  appear  Ui  \m'.  ipiUe  an  entliusinstic  admirer  of  tbc  FUtuiiic 
wi&dom,  and  he  is  not  always  a  satisfactory  intitrpreter  of  I'lato'* 
thoughts. 

Tbc  defect  adverted  to  is  not  merely  that  the  style  is  inaile- 
{|titil(-ly  ivnderrd, — that  for   instance  the  various  music  of  the 

*  1b  soidv  caiKS  the  rendering  appears  to  t>u  ( «»  vri(i»  nader  eomctiga),  aafc ' 
nwratf  dnixrfrvt,  but  ntislsken :  e^  p.  373  (St"; — Jl  in. '  lo  eausrt  which ;  3(«, 
4«£$*ir9oi  tt  ical  J4<C<Tffai,  '  to  riv.vrtvl>«;  tbc  vktiiii  <^[  a  Hi;  ;'  421,  imafi^^e^  ■  wc 
are  well  awsra  tllat  w«  uigbl*;'  \t.  449,  tJ  if^it  tcitu  '  tlii>  wonl  rislil ;'  p.  4W, 
Ita^ripoft^MM  rufit  ^n^ra^unUp  F*«cr. 'certain  itKtiviilnilscumipU^bjSopkiM* 


I 


p.  &79.  •biif  Uifityin,  *  U'itbout  auy  excow  fiir  u;*  l>.  6V2,  rkr*  UXa  inXav^ 
|hA(  Ty  A^vy,  *  And  luvo  wc  twt  diT«:st«d  ourselves  of  all  toooodary  ooiidder»- 
dons  in  the  coarse  of  the  aigumcnt  ? ' 

Phaednu 


M 


The  Platonic  Dialogues. 


309 


llurdrus  {wopapnivtot  pvfffu>l)  and  the  simple  gmcQ  of  the  IV^- 
tagoras  arc  rrprcsentcd  by  the  same  rougli  and  occa»i«»iially 
frigid  manner— nor  merrly  thnt  tbr  fragmentary  mode  tif  trcnt- 
mrnt  is  ill  luL-iptod  fur  tlu*  rrjinnlurtion  of  a  work  nf  nrl :  it  is 
rather  thnt  ftomc  part  of  uhnt  luv  d(H?p(.*sL  in  I'lati*  and-  of  nhat 
he  most  valu<:d  is  thnjwn  into  Oic  background,  if  not  ignored. 
Ilcnce  tlie  gradations  tbnmgh  which  bis  pbiluftophy  unfolded 
it»rlf  arc  traced  imperfectly,  and  tlic  real  hannony  wliich  per- 
vades this  *  diverse  l)ody  of  writings'  is  obscured  and  marred. 
Thore  nre  elements,  indeed,  of  Plato's  lifcwork,  io  which  \ti. 
Whewoll  liBS  given  fresh  prominence,  and  which  n  Irss  c*>ol  iiiid 
nnexcitwl  handling  has  sometimes  eliminnted.  For  the  meteoi^ 
lijfbt  of  German  philosophy  our  author  has  substitutcil  the  candlu 
of  l!)nglisU  common  sense ;  while  in  bis  command  of  geonu'try 
hi!  holds  a  thread  which  reaches  almost  directly  to  the  Amdeiny. 
He  b.is  done  wisely  in  protesting  against  certain  mide  mi'thmls 
by  which  Plato's  meaning  h  overlaid  with  *  modern  tbought,' 
and  disguised  under  the  language  of  Destartes  or  Hegel,  He 
has  further  avoided  the  mistake  of  aiming  at  a  formal  consist- 
c-ncy,  nbilc  sacrificing  the  obvious  meaning  of  a  jmrtieular 
writing.  One  bond  of  connexion  between  the  several  dialogues 
he  has  brought  into  full  relief;  the  common  presence  in  Uicm 
of  the  direct,  unswerving,  merciless  appeni  to  common  wiisi-, 
and  tbc  absolute  fletermination  to  uphold  an  immutable  momlity. 
Our  autlior,  if  not  deeply  imbued  with  Pliitonism,  is  a  gcjuiitie 
Socratic.  He  is  strongly  attracted  by  what  Antlsthenes  called  die 
iSocratie  vigour  {XtDKpaTiicriv  i<rxpv)f  the  inexorable  senuencc,  tlm 
k<?en  wit»  the  imiierturlxible  good  humour,  tbc  homely,  yet  sub- 
lime, mnral  attitude  of  the  Father  of  Philostipliy.  Ho  tJinri»iighly 
enj(»yB  ihe  way  in  which  .Socrates  sets  Uu!  young  men  a-thiuking; 
be  is  entertained  widi  the  discomliture  of  ihc  Sopliist,  though 
he  is  no  iesi  pleased  when  the  adversary  makes  a  gi«id  fight  of 
it  and  dies  Iiord :  and  he  is  ever  ready  to  npprecioltr  the  mural 
gmndeur  of  the  whole  position  {even  though  coloured  here  ami 
there  with  '  Platonic  eiaggeratio™ ').  H.ul  he  UtmI  in  Athens 
at  the  time  of  its  greatest  glory,  when  jihllosophy  had  its  birth 
diere,  it  is  more  than  doubtful  whether  be  would  have  ai-com- 
|Hinie<l  Plato  fur,  but  he  would  have  Ix-en  found  with  PliiJo, 
l^ucUdes,  and  Antisthenes  at  the  feet  of  SocrBtes,  and  wouW  not 
have  been  lightly  absent  from  his  master's  dentil.  The  ;ts|>ect  of 
Plato's  mimi  which  he  has  presented  to  us  is  perhaps  the  most 
Universally  iiilerrgting,  and  certainly  lias  the  nearest  affinity  to 
English  mtnles  <»f  tliought 

To  stimulate  intelligence,  to  rouic  the  mind  to  »pek  for  clear 
definltiuDB   of   familiar   notions,   especially   of  those  which  arc 

at 


1 


810 


The  Platonic  Dialogue$. 


at  once  most  familiar  and  most  imlcfinitc,  namely,  out  moral 
iilras :  thpse  object^  common  to  Plato  and  Socrat<s,  Vh. 
Whewcll  fully  recogTiiscs,  ami  he  exliibtta  with  considerable 
pith  and  racincss  the  'inductive'  methud  of  catechizing  by 
which  they  are  piirsucil.  But  Socmt^'s  was  somethinf*^  more  tluin 
an  acute  rrasuner  about  etliics  in  thtiir  infancy  ;  and  the  intea&lty 
,-tit  liis  penional  charurtirr  was  a('eoni|iaiiii'd  with  a  correspond uif{^ 
'loftini-'ss  of  inti-Mi'ctual  aim.  H«  sought  with  religious  jKrli- 
nacity  not  merely  knowledge  of  moral  relations,  but  knowledge 
as  such.  And  that  which  binds  Plato's  dialogues  together  is  the 
continuation  of  this  speculative  impulse  and  the  eonsciousnest  uf 
it  fvrr  liccoming  more  distinct  until  it  has  readied  the  whole 
ext»mt  of  pn^viiius  and  »^<mtemj>itmry  tlmughf,  und  has  travelled 
over  every  surrounding  asjiect  of  Mellciiic  life.  The  same  spiiit 
mlcs  amt<l&t  the  rich  variety  of  the  I'tunlrus  and  the  comparative 
simplicity  of  tbe  Protagoras  and  Meno. 

'I'his  cvcr-jjrcsent  spirit  of  inquiry  is  the  very  life  of  Plato; 
and  1(  is  this  which  Dr.  VVTicwrll  ap|Miu^  frequently  to  overlook. 
The  cause  may  be*  jKirlly  gathered  from  his  own  words  in  the 
preface  to  his  first  volume : — 

'  If  T  liavu  been  led  in  many  coecs  to  views  of  the  pDr|]ort  of  thoso 
iliah>gm>HdilTercntfromtbo  vicwa  whieh  havobocn  put  furtli  bymodom 
tnuihlulofM  and  cununentatora,  I  have  tried  to  give  my  rua^onft  fur  my 
iiiUirprL'tHliou,  atul  have  diKcussed  Uio  iuturprtitations  pnijKiHcd  bjr 
others.  To  tliosc  who  have  been  accnatomed  to  the  ustml  utjlo  of 
fionrnicntitig  upon  the  "  Flatoiiie  DiatnpioR,"  T  Rbidl  pmbahly  appcu*, 
liespoeiaUy  iii  the  earlier  Dialogues  of  tbio  Hcries,  U*  kh;  in  Plato  a  IcBH 
profound  wixdum  tliau  fans  been  commonly  ascribed  to  him.  Hut  X 
]hi[)4!  tliu  rouder  will  fiml  in  Uio  DialnffiicK  ihoniKclvi^  lU  hero  pM- 
i4etil«d,  nud  in  their  couiiexioii  with  cauh  otlicr,  u  jn-stilicatioD  of  my 
views  an  to  the  pur{>oHc  and  objoct  of  tbe  arguments  uuod.  In  evoty 
part  my  rulu  has  been  to  take  whut  Miumud  thu  dlrvct  and  iintnral 
import  uf  the  Dialuguo  as  its  true  meaning.  Somo  of  the  conunouta- 
tors  arc  in  the  habit  of  extracting  from  Plato  doctrines  obliquely 
implied  ratbur  than  directly  ossbrlcd  :  iudcisl  thuy  eomotiaics  seem  to 
aaerilie  Ui  llmir  PUt<>  lui  ironj-  bo  profound,  thnt  it  makes  no  difTerencu 
in  any  spocial  caac  whether  he  asserts  a  proposition  or  its  opposito. 
I  have  taken  a  difforcQt  conrso,  and  I  have  obtained,  as  I  think,  a  mora 
conmstont  retiidt.' 

We  have  already  gi-aated  that  it  is  |wssihlc  t<>  Hml  too  much 
in  Plato;  tlint  is,  to  attribute  to  liim  associations  which  are  of 
another  age.  But  when  fully  guarded  against  thiii  ilangcr,  and 
wholly  rtjKirt  Ironi  any  desire  to  give  a  profound  meaning  to 
i-itmmon-plnce  language^  an  attentive  render  is  soon  led  to  suspuc;t 
him  uf  a  very  deep  irony  and  a  h>vi«  of  indirect  expression. 
Further,  as  he  becomes  familiar  with  Plato's  writings,  hu  will  Iw 

made 


I 


The  Platonic  DuUogues, 


311 


'  maili?  nwnre  of  a  continuity  of  growth  jiervndtng  them,  ns  Iibj 
jM-rffivcs  the  germs  of  lator  tlimi;^]ils  ;i|i|Miiri»t;  i"i  tht-  farlitnr' 
(Jinloguf^:  iborjries  stated  tiniUUivi-ly  and  icliauuishi'd,  %\Iu(.'li  an* 
afterwards  nccepted  when  put  ditferently  ;  tlie  same  idea  appe.iring 
at  one  tunc  in  a  mythical,  at  another  time  in  a  severer,  form  ; 
while  somi'tijnes,  what  Iias  been  in  one  place  worked  out  with 
strict  dialec--tic(d  exactness,  seems  in  a  later  ptufsuge  to  l>c  weak- 
ened or  softened  dtjwn.  And  thus  an  intention  or  tendenry  may^ 
often  be  quite  fairly  deduced  from  the  rum|Kiri»on  of  other  dla-' 
lo^es,  which  is  hy  no  means  evident  on  the  surface  of  a  particular 
writing.  No  analysis  ol  I'lato  can  be  searching;,  no  account  of 
him  can  be  a<lcquaec,  which  omits  these  plain  facts.  It  Is  pos- 
sible to  assltirn  to  Plato  notions  wliich  arc  foreiji^n  to  him ;  it  is 
possible,  ui  tivating  him  as  u  i>1itlu»>plu'r,  to  forget  tbat  he  is  a 
dianiatist  anil  pot>t ; — to  dniw  a  sorl  of  bust  of  him  instead  of  the 
full-longlli  fij^^re.  Uut  it  is  no  less  a  fault  to  give  u&  the  limbs 
without  tlic  head,  or  the  body  without  the  inspiring  souL  In 
nvoiding  the  error  of  imagining  an  itieal  Plato,  Dr.  Whewell  lias 
fallen  into  the  opposite  extreme.  He  has  diiicarded  the  help  uf 
imagination,  aud  his  Plato  is  sometimes  a  very  mntter-of-fact 
jMTsoii  indeed. 

The  little  dialogue  which  bears  the  name  of 'Lysis '  or 'On 
Frieixlshtp '  aHords  a  good  illustration  of  our  meaning.  Hits 
Dr.  Whewell  regards  *m  a  scries  of  puzzles,  fitted  well  enough 
to  exercise  Uie  intellect  of  boys,  and,  o(  men  in  tlie  infancy  of 
speeidatinn,  and  employed  mainly  for  that  purp»>se  by  Plalo.' 
It  is  true  that  the  scene  of  tlie  ctmvei-satton  is  a  hoys'  schixil,  and 
tJiat  the  only  actual  interWutors  beaides  Socrates  arc  boys ;  and 
I>r.  >Vhewell  has  very  happily  rendered  tlie  playful  manner  in 
which  Socrates  {yraifytv  irpo^  tieipaxia  *)  insinuates  himself  into 
the  good  graces  of  the  iMiyish  mind.  But  arc  wc  to  suppose  that 
he  has  no  object  bevond  bis  own  amusement  in  doing  tliis? 
May  he  not  he  at  the  same  time  insinuating  some  true  lessun? 

*  Latighing,  to  teach  the  truth 
Wliat  hinders?' 

Or  is  his  main  pur]>ose  simply  to  pnzzic  them?  And  is  it  a 
matter  of  iudiflerencc  to  Plato  in  what  direction  they  am  'set 
a-thinking'?  Before  accepting  such  a  conchision,  it  would  Ijc 
prudent  to  comjtare  tiie  '  Symposium,'  in  which  a  cogiwtu 
subject  (l^>ve)  is  treated  more  fully  and  with  undoubted  earnest- 
ness. Ihfre  we  find  urveral  of  the  hints  thrown  out  in  the 
'Lysis'  canrfully  elalKirated.  Thus  the  suggesUon  that  'what  il 
neither  gijod  nor  evil  loves  the  good,  because  of  tlic  presence  of] 


•  plM.*Ttiwrt..'p.  les. 


evil 


7%$  Platmie  Dialogues. 


evil  in  iUoir'*  is  pamllelcd  by  tbf»  tliouglii  tlint  *Lotc  !■ 
neither  wise  nor  unwise-,  noitlior  .1  Ciod  iiur  ti  mortal,  ocitber 
rich  Dor  utterly  poor ;  yei  that  \\v.  has  alwnvs  n  w.int  accom- 
panying him :  that  he  is  the  son  of  lnveiiti<»i  and  I'ovi'riy.'  t 
The  vnguf  notion  of  an  Absolute  RTonml  of  FriCTnUhip  {-ffpSiiTov 
<^iKov)  X  is  more  distinctly  sot  fortb  in  the  '  Syin{>osiun)  *  as  Ab- 
sfjlute  Bfiiuty  {aino  KaKov)^  \  nnd  ita  relation  to  pftrticular  objects 
iS  flimilnrlv  (tescrilxHl  :  while  the  niiticimtion  with  whieli  thn 
'Lysis'  cl<)»?s,  thnt  tlie  ground  of  FrieiiUsbip  is  that  M'hich  is  at 
unce  (*ootl  and  Proper  to  the  person  aiming  at  it  {uriaBov  koX 
oi'x^Zai/),!  is  strikinglv  confirmed  by  ttit-  ductrinc  of  Diutima,  that 
the  real  aim  of  Love  isthat  the  Beautiful  should  he  realized  as  our 
own.  II  This  last  thought,  as  Dr.  WhewotI  himself  remarks, 
lieccmips  the  centre  of  Aristotle's  deeply  phihfsopliical  Analysis  of 
l-Viemlsldp,"  in  which  oilier  questions  nJsed  in  tJie  '  Lysis'  are 
also  nuticed  ;  such  as,  *  whether  friendship  is  always  mutual,  ami 
whether  it  arises  aatumlly  between  similar  ur  opposite  characten?' 
Hence  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  think  that  real  difficulties  may 
lie  at  the  root  of  these,  which  Dr,  WhewcU  considers  merely 
verlml  qaestinns.  To  the  Oreek  philosophers,  nt  all  rrents,  they 
were  not  merely  verlrnl.  And,  gntlK^riri;;  Ijoldness  In  tin*  face  of 
these  analogies,  we  venture  to  ask,  whctluT  fc^Krates'  advice  (o 
Hippothales  at  the  opening  tt  is  not  intended  to  convey  the  im- 
pression that  truth  is  Uic  reid  ground  of  love,  and  hence  that  the  true 
way  to  conciliate  love  in  another  is  to  awaken  in  htm  tlie  lovc!  4if 
Irutli.  I-aslly,  when  we  rememlter  how  closely  allietl  in  Plato's 
'  mind  were  the  ideas  of  love  and  friendship  ('representeil  here  by 
thf!  two  friends  of  Lvsis.  Hipp<}t]iales  an<l  Menexcnus),  and  that 
love  was  to  him  the  symbol  uf  ttie  highest  pldlosnphy,  we  shall  n>ft 
l»e  startled  if  we  find  this  boyish  discussion  of  a  boyish  affection' 
running  up  into  such  questitms  as  'What  would  be  the  caae  if 
evil  were  done  away?  Would  there  then  be  no  desire?' JJ  Tluit 
is  not  a  merelv  childish  discourse,  though  it  might  well  be  sug- 
gested by  the  question  of  a  child,  in  which  we  find  such  words 
as  tlicsc: 

'Toll  mo,  I  boBOCch  yon,  suppomng  Evil  weni  dostroycd,  wooltl 
then  tiieu  bo  do  more  huigering,  nor  thirfiting,  nor  any  Buch  thiii({ ; 
ur  would  tiitnu  still  Iw  bnngor,  as  a  condition  of  Uiu  imiimd  &iuiil',  yut 
60  ifl  to  do  it  no  harm ;  and  thirst  also,  oud  tho  ulbcr  doBirctt,  only 
with  no  touch  of  cril,  acoing  that  tliu  Evil  Natoro  n'sa  dcctrojed  't  Or 


I 


I 
* 

i 


■Lys,'p.5l7. 


t  '^-mp-,'  p.  S03. 

,'  K  Is.  ft  P.  Slo. 

XX  Compare  *  TbcntV  P<  KCt  ^a  oCrt  iiMohiatm  fi  kojA  twarir,  &  e«M«v«. 


'SriDp^'  p.  2tl. 

'     Ar.  Kth.  N.,' 


1  'I^/p-STg. 
1  •Synip.,'  p.SOi. 


Tla  PJaUmia  Dialogues.  313 

is  it  not  rathor  Tain  to  ask  what  wotild  happen  or  not  happen  then,  for 

who  can  toll  ?•  * 

We  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  hypotheses  of  the  '  Lysis  * 
were  cither  seriously  put  forth  by  Plato  before  his  own  thought 
on  the  subject  was  fully  matured,  or  were  seriously  intended  by 
him  to  lead  the  mind  of  his  reader  a  few  steps  in  the  direction 
which  his  own  more  advanced  speculations  had  taken.  The  fact 
that  boys  are  the  interlocutors  rather  favours  the  latter  view ;  that 
he  is  intentionally  leading  us  only  part  of  the  way,  as  children 
may  be  lifted  to  catch  a  momentary  glimpse  of  some  pageant 
which  they  are  not  allowed  to  follow.  And  it  deserves  to  be 
remarked  in  confirmation  of  this,  that  the  hypothesis  already  men- 
tioned— that  the  indifferent  loves  the  good  because  of  the  pre- 
sence of  some  evil — though  it  is  relinquished  because  of  the 
difficulties  surrounding  the  mutual  relations  of  good  and  evil  in 
the  world,  is  not  expressly  and  finally  set  aside. 

This  instance  may  sufHce  to  indicate  the  importance  of  com- 
paring Plato  with  himself.  But  to  be  fully  understood  he  must 
be  studied  with  reference  to  the  whole  history  of  the  Greek 
mind.  Dr.  Whewell  is  not  insensible  to  this  necessity ;  but  it 
is  a  point  on  which  the  Historian  of  the  Inductive  Sciences 
might  have  rendered  more  valuable  assistance  than  we  have  met 
with  in  these  volumes. 

The  age  of  Socrates  and  of  Plato  has  features  peculiar  to  itself 
— it  is  the  culminating  point  of  the  Greek  intellect ;  but  it  may 
be  regarded  as  typical  of  every  age  in  which  intellectual  move- 
ments  have  predominated.  And  a  clear  likeness  of  it  is  preserved 
for  us  in  Plato's  writings.  It  had  been  preceded  by  a  long 
transition  period,  in  which  the  Greek  was  no  longer  a  child,  but 
a  growing  boy ;  and  when  the  state,  mirrored  in  the  Homeric 
poems,  in  which  everything  in  and  around  the  life  of  man  was 
met  with  an  awestruck,  yet  loving  and  familiar  reverence,  no 
longer  occupied  the  whole  mind  of  the  people,  but  had  retired 
to  the  inner  chambers  of  memory,  still  reaily  to  awake  at  the 
touch  of  the  poet  into  more  than  imaginary  being.  Even  with  the 
poetical  forms,  the  beginnings  of  philosophy  were  ere  long  in- 
woven. The  fine  sense  of  harmony  and  proportion  inherent  in 
the  Greek  race  was  puzzled  in  comparing  past  and  present, 
elements  of  liberty  and  of  order,  the  Fates  and  Justice,  positive 
and  unwritten  law.  The  *  Prometheus '  of  J^schylus,  and  the 
'  Antigone '  of  Sophocles,  had  a  deeper  than  the  merely  poetical 
interest.  Moral  reflections,  like  those  of  Pindar  and  Thucydides, 
began    to  insert  themselves  beneath  the  pictures  of   Olympus, 

*  P.  220. 


S14  77a  PlaUmic  Dialot/ms. 

Mid  to  wpplnnl  tlip  fear  of  the  Divine  jpalousy.     The  jM>1itical 
history  of  Atluns  liad  piven  sco]>e  for  the  ilisplay  of  the  highest 
public  qualities,  and  the  exigencies  of  tlie  state  bad  l)ocD  a  sarer 
guide  to  Tbcmistoclcs  and   I'ericlcs  than   the  example,  which 
sccmeil  to  animate  them,  of  the  heroes  of  old.     The  lan--<x»urts 
were   training  ever)'   citizen    in    the   arts  of  disputntitm.      'llic 
more  ambitious  longed   for  the  power  of   oratory   to  sway    the 
Demos.     Meanwhile,  an  ideal  philosophy  had  arisen,  and  came 
inljj  contact  with  tliis  eager,  mobile  atmosphere  of  awakened  in- 
telligence.     Thus    i'ericles    strengthened    his   mind    with    tlie 
convene  of  Anaxagoras.     And  while  the  true  meaning  of  the 
earliest  thinkers  passrnl  over  the  heads  of  their  contemporaries, 
and  wandered,  a  mere  bodiless  creation,  until  it  found  liarmonious 
ulteranct-  through  the  mind  of  Plato,  their  wonls  were  eagerly 
caught  up  and  applied.     Hence  philosophy  stood  in  danger  of 
being  Tuigarizcd,  through  being  turned  to  popular  use».     The 
lofty  speculation  of  Parmeuides  in  the  form  of  the  Zenonian  logic 
was  tmnsrormed  into  a  mere  gymnastic  of  the  brain,  a  jiarailuxical 
mi*ans  of  pulling  the  world  to  pieces,  and  of  binding  last  the 
spirit  of  inquiry.     'HiC!  scarcely  less  exalte*]  tlietiry  of  Heraclitus 
became  the  occasion  of  thr;  mcn>!y  subjective  doctrine  of  Prota- 
gt)ni5,  which  threatened  to  make  men  indiflcrcnt  to  absolute  tnilh. 
The  singular  attitude  presented  by  Socrates  was  the  only  means 
of  rescuing  the  world  tVoin    this   result.     It  was  the  reverse  of 
dogmatism,    yet    it  was  not    tlie  attitude  of  scepticism   but  of 
inquiry.     Two  things  are  implied  in  this ;  *  tlie  Indicf  that  there 
'is  an  absolute  and  universal  tnitli,  and  the  consciousness  tliat  wc 
do  not  possess  it.     Socrates  further  assumed  that  if  there  is  an 
absolute  truth,  it  is  applicable  in  the  form  of  good  to  everything 
in  human  life ;  and  that  to  learn  somethbig  of  it  by  self-qu<?stion- 
ing  is   not  only  jMissilile,  but  n  duty  absolutely  tuniling.     The 
lesson  which  he  taught,  tliough  it  stood  in  the  closest  relation  to 
the  contemporary  phase  of  the  (inn-k  mind,  and  became  the  key 
to  its  iiiturprctaticn,  was  yet  jierfcctly  independent  of  the  theories 
of  other  men.      He  is  one  of  those  heroic  figures  who  liave  lived 
ill  Uieir  age  but  wen*  not  of  it ;  who  liave  made  an  iuiprrssioo 
on    mankind  ineomjiarably    greater   than   any  which    they  can 
have  received.     He  did  nnt  fable  when  lie  claimed  a  Divine 
mission.     To  him  we  owe  the  faitli,  where  it  is  still  found,  that 
tTutli  is  one,  that  the  same  thing  cannot  be  true  and  false,  tliat 
what    is    true    camiol    I>p    separated   from  what  is  goo*l.       Hud 
Socrates  not  lived,  is  it  tiNi  much  to  say  that  the  *  marvels  of 

*  See  Bomc  remnrlu  on  Dueuttt,  in  Mr,  Maurice's  uew  volome  on  the  '  Ilia- 
torf  of  Philosopliy/  p.  i'j&. 

modem 


I 


The  Fiatotiic  Dialogwi. 


315 


mndrrn  scicnco '  would  imvo  Iiron  im{M>ivsihlc  ?  *  He  was  the  fint 
who  |iur<iuifl  kiiowlrdp-  as  .1  rc<1l|;ioiis  ilutv,  nnd  sacntice<l  his 
lifr  to  truUu  Ho  laiil  Hio.  rouiidtiUoD-Btoiir  of  sclrncp  in  \tiin,  ol' 
which  It  was  reserveil  fur  our  own  llacori  to  plan*  tlm  romcr-stone 
in  Nature,  ilu  alunu  in  Ids  day  &uw  clearly  tlial  bcl'on-  wi>  am 
icason  accurately  concerning  anything;,  wa  must  first  know  by 
inquiry.  What  it  is,'  In  an  age  and  country  whore  all  theories 
wi?n-  recL'ivpd,  but  none  were  roilly  sjlK^d ;  when  men  wore 
ainusttl  nidti-r  than  disturki.-d  by  intidlcetual  and  logical  ditft- 
cultics;  when  tliey  could  laugh  at  representations  of  je^kIs  and 
heroes,  and  yet  were  jianic-btricken  by  any  violence  done  to 
their  traditional  superstitions ;  when  success  was  worshipped, 
and  dogmas  never  known  as  principira  wi-re  in  the  mouths 
of  Inwynrs  nnr)  publit:  nit'ii ;  in  nii  ngi,>  whtin  poetry  and  oratory 
^fl^•tl^  liunimn-41  and  studied  but  not  yet  really  aiialvstHl  and 
undersbMMt,  ihcnr  was  one  man  whose  rye  piercril  through  and 
through  the  buily  of  the  time.  That  man  was  Socrates.  His 
ironical  speech  to  ihe  Athenians  really  expresses  all :  '  1  know 
nothing ;  but  others  seem  to  know :  I  And  that  they  also  arc  really 
igiinraiit  ;  but  I  know  that  I  know  nothing :  thrrerurr  tlir  Deity 
luu  pronouneed  uie  wise.'  \\c  is  the  first  who  brought  the 
st;in<lartl  of  absolute  knowledge  to  bear  upon  the  individual 
mind  ;  by  self-reflection  upon  his  own,  and  then  by  inductive 
questioning  ujwn  the  minds  of  others.  He  seemed  to  them  the 
cause  of  their  pcrplexlt)' ;  but  really  he  only  revealed  to  them,  by 
tlie  light  of  rranin,  tlie  confusion  iii  whteh  tlieir  thoughts  still 
lay.  (S(i  Plato  makes  him  say  to  Kuthyjdiro,  *  It  is  not  1  tliat 
make?  the  argument  to  move  in  a  circle,  but  you.')  *  • 

The  method  of  Socrates  seemed  the  ilestruction  of  all  in  which 
men  lived  and  moved,  of  that  beautiful  poetry  which  wai  ensbrincd 
in  the  hearts  of  the  [>cople,  of  tlie  sbitesmanship  which  had  wun 
oiu)  secun^d  their  liberties,  of  die  oratory  which  was  the  mouthpiece 
aiwl  npjinn'nt  manispring  of  the  national  will  ;of  the  mythology  in 
whiirh,  its  in  an  opal  casket,  the  secret  of  their  social  and  religious 
life  lay  hid.  It  was  in  rtalitv  the  creation  of  a  new  principle, 
which  should  give  to  each  of  these  elements  of  Atltcnian  life  an 
ideal  significance,  and  should,  unlike  them,  siK>ak  directly  and 
Willi  immeiliate  power  not  to  the  Atlienians  only,  but  to  ilur  men  of 
intellect  dirougbout  the  world.  A  contrast  is  sometimes  drawn 
between  the  sense  of  discord  and  confusion,  die  distraction  ami 
agony  of  the  soul,  which  is  the  forenmner  of  religious  peace,  and 
the  '  harmony  widi  Nature '  In  which  Philosophy  is  sup|m»eil  to 
rest.     But  it  is  not  less  true  that  tlierc  is  a  parallel  between  the 


•  *  Eutbypbr.,' p.  1S> 


dissolution 


S16        ^|B        The  Platonic  DiaioffUCJt. 

dissolution  nf  the  old  elements  of  ititcllectnnl  life,  the  ftestrurcioa 
i)f  a])|)cnninpes  in  nhieh  tlie  mind  rpposcd,  the  bronkin^  up  of 
enomin^  foundntiuns,  which  nre  Hie  lirst-fruits  of  the  spirit  nf 
inquiry',  and  the  isol.-ttion  of  tht;  iiulindiial  from  the  worlds  (be 
Bepjiraliun  of  the  fU'sh  and  spiilt,  which  arc  the  fon'tastc  of  the 
experience  of  the  Christian.  And  while  the  work  of  Socrates 
Appeared  tlie  <tcath-strokc  of  alt  confidence  in  traditional  teaching;, 
and  in  thf  pt)wcrs  of  the  mind  itself,  it  wns  really  inspire<l  with 
a  deep  and  sober  faith  ;  the  belief  that  Truth  exists  for  man,  anil 
that  DC  is  able,  if  not  at  once  to  grasp  it,  ^et  tu  aim  at  it  not 
without  a  sure  hope. 

The  object  of  this  faith,  to  which  Socrates  clung  so  firmly 
that  he  died  rather  than  relinquish  it  or  hide  it  from  mankind 
— diffcrcfl  from  the  'universal  reason'  of  HeraclitOB,  and 
the  *  universal  Deitj'  of  Xenophanes  (1),  in  that,  while  the 
sole  object  of  true  knowleilge,  it  was  reganled  as  for  the  present 
unknown,  and  (S),  in  being  not  merely  a  s]ieculative,  but  also  a 
prni-ticnl  principle.  And  this  in  two  ways,  both  as  it  must  be 
found  applicable  to  cvorythinff  in  human  life,  ami  as  the  search 
for  it  with  a  view  to  practice  was  bis  one  cndravonr.  1 
/in&to  not  what  anything  ?'.«,  till  I  have  found  an  account  of  it 
which  is  vniveraally  true.'  The  exemplification  of  this  maxim 
in  fomiliar  Instances  was  Socrates'  life.  !f  it  does  not  seem  a 
great  thing  to  die  for,  then  no  principle  is  worth  sup\»orting,  fin- 
it  is  this  which  give*  to  every  true  principle  its  value.  It  lit-a 
at  the  root  of  philosophy  and  of  all  science,  and  gives  the  Imix? 
of  a  secure  foundation  ti>  morality.  No  one  had  so  brought 
the  '  dry  light  *  of  n-ason,  without  any  inten'ening  haze  of 
speculative  imagination,  into  immediate  contact  with  the  nptnion* 
anil  jwactices  of  men.  When  he  said  Virtue  is  knowledge,  he 
meant  that  virtue,  if  it  is  to  stand  firm,  must  be  bnsi*d  on  prin- 
ciple, and  not  on  custom,  education,  and  tradition ;  nitd  that 
hence  a  *  science  of  ethics '  was  necessary  as  a  guide  to  men. 

Plato  received  the  Socratic  spirit  of  inquiry  into  a  mind  which 
Iweame  also  filled  with  all  the  literature  and  science  and  all  the 
speculative  theories  then  extant.  As  Dr.  Whewcll  remarks 
(though  be  attaches  more  importance  to  the  eireumstonn-  tlian 
seems  quite  necessary),  he  foumi  an  illustration  of  the  certainty 
which  his  mnsl<T  sought  for  in  the  definitions  of  geometry.  He 
applied  the  'questioning  methtKl' not  miTely,  as  Socrates  had 
done,  to  the  confulatiou  and  <{uiekfntng  of  individual  mind^ 
hut  more  generally  lo  the  refutation  or  dirvelopment  of  durtrinei, 
— physical  and  metaphysical,  ns  well  as  political  and  mora]. 
Moi-eover  the  method  itself  grew  under  his  hands  into  a  theory 
of  rodliod,  which  was  at  the  same  time  a  philosophy  of  knowing 

and 


I 
I 


4 


I 


Tfie  Plaionic  Dialitf/tu*. 


317 


and  bcinf;.  Thiu  Plato's  mliul  may  be  regarded  as  tliat  of 
S(*cratcs  idealized  and  ]>rojrctcd  upon  the  earlier  and  contrin- 
porary  plulosophic*,  revealing  their  forms,  but  also  searching 
tbeni  v/ith  a  light  not  their  own,  and  weaving'  them  anew  Into  a 
Jiving  and  Imrmonious  symbol  of  tJjP  universe,  and  a  true  record 
of  the  Laws  I  of  Mind.  In  this  process  the  Socratie  method  of 
ijuesiiouing  is  generalijscd,  and  its  first  eiTcct  is  to  reduce  the  im- 
pressions of  the  senses  and  of  common  opinion  from  appearing 
fixed,  and  stable,  and  absolute,  to  appcor  unfixed  and  (luctunting, 
and  merely  relative  to  the  individual.  In  so  far  it  run*  parallel  to 
the  Hcraclitean  doctrine  of  chiinge^  and  to  the  maxun  of  Pn>ta- 
goras,  *  Each  man  the  measure  of  what  is  to  him.'  *  As  Dicdalus 
made  his  images  to  move  of  their  own  accord,  so  Socrates  gives 
wings  to  the  opinions  of  men.'  But  then  he  does  so  in  the  act  of 
pressing  forwards  tnwartla  an  absolute  standard.  A  tKiaitireaim 
IS  ever  combine*!  with  the  dc»tructivc  method.  This  goal  oi 
Truth  towards  which  thtf  upward  face  of  the  Platonic  Socrates  is 
directed,  was  linked  by  Plato  with  the  Eleatic  Being.  But  tliis 
One  Being  is  with  him,  ns  it  had  been  with  Socrates,  no  tnire 
abstraction,  'dovcliijird  out  of  nmsciousueu '  in  the  attempt  to 
scale  the  universe  at  a  hound — it  is  '  tlic  real '  in  cvcrytluufr,  to 
&v  SxacTOf,  tlie  true  ground  of  its  nature.  Each  thing  in  its  uni- 
versal a*|>cct  is  a  part  of  Being.  Tlic  highest  intellectual  effort 
is  the  endeavour  to  grasp  this  universal  reality,  so  as  lo  recognise 
its  traces  everywhere.* 

Now  Socrates  had  spoken  of  the  One  Eternal  Principle  as  the 
good  and  lieautiful  ;  and  Plato  further  S]>eaks  of  the  iinpulio  of 
the  soul  which  seeks  for  it  as  tlio  essence  of  love.  But  we  can- 
not be  in  love  with  a  lifeless,  har<I  perfection  ;  we  cannot  believe 
that  the  object  of  our  highest  ospimtions  is  without  energy  ami 
thought.  Henee  the  Eleatic  theory  is  unsatisfying  until  we  have 
inlorwoven  with  it  the  Ileraclilean  in  a  higher  form.  The  abso- 
lute contains  the  relative  under  it.  Tlie  abstract  Incomes  con- 
crete when  it  is  rl(*arly  seen.  For  the  good,  and  iH-nutil'ul,  and 
real,  nrc  distinct,  an<)  stand  in  relations  to  each  other :  even  *  that 
which  is '  cannot  be  conceived  of  as  existing,  unless  contmdis- 
tinguished  from  that  which  U  not,  and  at  the  same  time  em- 
liraejng  it  Thus  tlie  unreal  has  a  kind  of  reality  imparted  to 
it  That  which  Itas  not  absolute  reality,  in  a  manner  is. 
Innunu-nd)le  things  exiat,  no  one  of  wluch  is  identical  with 
absolute  being.  Fnuu  this  point  Philosophy  ceases  In  Iw  mrn-ly 
nbstmct :  the  strife  Ijetween  reason  and  the  world  is  partly  recon- 
ciled by  Imagining  a  state  in  which  opinion  shall  bo  ruled  by 


knowledge, 


* 


ktMJwIrdgn,  nnil  nppfnmnci-s  shall  be  eoneeircd  of  liArnimiioiitl 
willi  ri-alitv.      Ami    ui   this  e/Tort  tn  pivc  pmportion,  and  jwiwcr, 
and  lifn  to  tlic  idt-as,  Plnio'g  imagination  is  greatly  a&sislcd  Uy        ' 
llio  Hythagorean  '  Harmony.'  ^M 

Such,  very  brielly,  and  leaving  out  of  view  His  more  decidedly  ^^ 
polemical  aspect,  is  the  mere  outliiio  of  tlie  development  of 
Plato's  mind.  Three  elements  are  throughout  perceptible: — 
(1)  the  philosopliical  Impulsi',  ideulized  as  Jiros,  Lt»ve ;  (2)  the 
aiialylieal  and  inductive  methcMl  whlcli  accompanies  ihis  {tiiij-rrsU 
and  xi/nar/ot/e) ;  (3)  the  gojil  ol'  the  impulse  ami  end  of  the  nieitHid, 
the  form,  not  yet  seen  but  loved,  of  Absolute  and  Universal 
Goodness  and  Beauty,  iviiich  alone  is  real.  The  Erotic  sym* 
holism  prevails  in  some  dialogues,  dialectical  and  scirntilic 
keemiess  preilominates  in  olliers ;  some  dwell  inore  upon  metitnl 
pnKcsses  and  the  powers  of  the  soul,  and  some  on  the  eternal 
objects  of  Mind.  JJut  each  of  the  three  strands  is  present,  oven 
when  comparatively  little  seen. 

And  they  arc  often  hidden  by  tho*nchness  of  their  coveriii|v. 
For  Plato's inith  isdyed  in  beauty — his  pliilosophy  is  evcrcl<ith«l 
witli  jtoetry,  dramatic,  ililliyrnndjif,  epic.  I'he  Klcui'lnis  of 
Socrmtes  in  bin  hands  becomes  a  series  of  melodntuas.  His 
Sucmtes  is  not  the  spirit  of  dialectical  ironv  and  enthusiasm  |H*r- 
sonified,  hut  the  most  polite,  provoking,  pertinacious,  charming 
|>crson.  HimsclJ'  in  love  with  the  Universal  13cauty,  and  finding 
traces  of  it  hi  the  fair  youths  who  come  to  him,  lie  really  imparts 
of  it  to  them,  and  fixes  their  aHi-'ctioiis  by  destroying  their  etmcnit 
of  knowing  somelhlng.  And  there  are  passages  in  wliich  some 
.aspect  of  tiic  liigliRst  life  is  inythtrally  Mrt  forth,  as  in  the  '  Plia-- 
flrus,'  in  which  the  glowing  zeal  of  a  religious  pbtlnsoph\  exercises 
over  languajfc  a  creative  |>ower  greater  than  that  of  ^ischvlus  or 
Pindar.  Again,  in  the  great  dialogues,  as  in  the  '  Kc|Miblic,'  the 
iuti^Tcst  is  hardly  less  sustained  than  in  the  Odyssee,  whih'  tliought 
rises  aboi'e  thought,  in  an  apparently  careless  order,  yet  one 
which,  in  its  chief  points,  ceruiiidy  cimmjl  be  inverted  without 
iloing  injury  to  the  dTect  of  the  whole.  So  little  can  any  merely 
logit'nj  or  metaphysical  analysis  do  justice  to  the  genius  of  I'tatrh 

Vet,  great  artist  as  he  is,  his  thonght  frequently  outruns  the 
expression  of  it.  There  are  deep  rellectioiis  anil  subtle  oLserva- 
tions,  sometimes  c-asually  introduced,  sometimes  inJinfctly  hinted 
at,  in  the  midst  of  a  seemingly  v«rKiI  argument,  which  we-  feel 
to  be  of  more  lasting  value  than  that  of  wliich  they  niT  the 
(imaments;  gems,  uhose  setting  was  not  yet  ready,  picked  ap 
by  tin-  way,  and  given  to  aftiT  ages  for  a  prize. 

His  humour,  on  tlm  other  hand,  pervades  the  whole,  and  is 
hardly  absent  even  from  the  gravest  paseagrs,  .  It  is  closely  allied 

t(» 


4 


TJte  Platonic  Diaicffms. 


319 


to  the  vividness  of  liis  imagination.  His  keen  rt'alization  of  the 
'windy  ways  of  men*  adds  a  jMiint  to  bis  penHiption  of  the  wrak- 
ncss  of  evil  and  falsehood  which  notliing'  else  could  give ;  and  the 
most  intritaic  discussions  arc  not  only  relieved  but  enlivened  by 
the  spirit  of  fun. 

We  must  retrarc  our  steps  to  consider  Plato's  controversial 
•ide.  The  war  with  the  *  Sophists.'  was  only  a  |iort  of  his  lifo- 
Inag  effort  to  refute  and  briji^f  under  everything  which  seemetl 
inconsistent  witli  the  spirit  of  philosophy.  His  quarrel  with 
tliem  was  certainly  not  more  deadiv  than  with  the  politici.tns  and 
lawj'PFS,  and  the  popular  asscmblirs  of  his  time.  He  argues 
more  with  thenif  because  their  pretensions  give  him  more  hold  ; 
but,  as  has  been  frequently  remarked  with  referencf?  to  Prota- 
goras, he  by  no  means  treats  the  greatest  of  them  with  unmea- 
sured ajntcmpt.  His  irony  is  rather  levelled  at  the  state  of  the 
world  itself  than  at  the  men  who  guided  itj  and  while  be  warns 
ihrsn  fn>m  the  sat-red  precincts  of  philosophy,  it  does  not  appear 
tliat  he  would  deny  to  them  tlie  utility  which  they  lay  claim  to 
in  their  own  Rphere.  Protagoras  at  least  is  further  n^anh-il  by 
liim  as  the  author  of  a  theor)*  which  must  l)e  examined  by 
all  who  would  grasp  the  idea  of  knowledge. 

Mr.  Grote,  as  an  historian,  has  been  naturally  anxious  to 
mscue  from  misconception  every  integral  part  of  Athenian 
soriety,  and  has  sought  tn  vindicate  these  men  from  Oic  iinniixr'd 
blante  which  Plato's  commnntatirrs  had  thought  it  ri^ht  to  lay 
upon  them.  He  has  given  us  a  true  and  life-like  description  of 
their  activity,  for  which  every  student  of  Greek  life  must  feel 
indebted  to  him.  But  while  frankly  accepting  bis  nc«»imt  of 
what  they  were  in  relation  to  their  age  anti  country,  wn  still  frvl 
tliat  Platit's  view  i)f  them  in  relation  to  S<icnitr>s  and  to  pbilo* 
Sophy  is  subsLuitially  concct.  'i'hev  were  the  accepte*!  teachers  of 
their  time.  But  the  philosophers  of  any  period  are  seldom  its 
accepted  tearhers.  They  supplied  a  temporary  want,  which 
Socrates  and  Plato  prubably  coulil  not  or  would  not  have  supplied ; 
they  were  many  uf  them  wise  in  their  generation  and  for  it; 
they  did  some  serviw  in  special  fields  of  scicnt* ;  they  hc1|)cd 
to  keep  thought  alive,  and  were  In  various  degrees  the  representa- 
tives of  a  necessary  phase  nf  the  human  mind,  that  in  which  uld 
beliefs  are  giving  way,  and  men,  satisfied  witli  the  eimsciousness 
of  inlelleetual  enciyy,  are  mil  yet  awanr  of  the  need  of  a  firm 
standtng-gmund.  But  they  may  not  the  less  have  been  a  grievous 
hindrance  in  the  n-ay  of  those  w*ho  strove  to  awaken  a  belief 
in  Truth  .is  an  Eternal  UnclL-ingcable  Reality ;  who  required  the 
confession  of  ignorance  in  those  who  came  to  tbcm.  The  exini- 
ncnts  of  |)opular  ideas  by  on  essentially  popular  method  ;  winning 
,    Vol.  112. — No,  Si4,  T  -reverence 


320  The  PkUonie  DiakgvM.  ■ 

reverence  hy  the  assumption  of  aathoritj,  they  may  doubtlest 
have  been  fit  educatmrs  for  '  boys  and  for  men  id  the  infancy  of 
speculation,'  but  thej  were  apt  to  prolong  the  boyhood  of  Ae 
human  reason,  and  to  check  and  stunt  the  ^wth  of  calm  con- 
templative wisdom  amongst  men.  We  can  conceive  of  an  ideal 
state  in  which  the  philosopher  and  the  ruler,  the  divine  and  the 
public  speaker,  shall  each  hare  recognised  the  other's  functioi^ 
and  shall  be  willing  to  work  in  harmony.  But  that  consumma- 
tion has  not  yet  been  realized,  and  it  was  very  far  from  being 
realized  in  Athens.  Nor  is  Greece  the  only  country  in  whidi 
the  spread  of  truth  has  been  impeded  by  *  theories  springing-  up 
spontaneously,*  *  by  the  men  of  action  using  their  influence  to 
counteract  the  men  of  thought^  by  the  confusion  of  facts  with 
principles,  of  the  ideal  with  the  actual,  by  the  weight  of  moral 
obligation  being  attributed  to  traditional  or  conventional  notions^ 
or  to  the  fancies  of  individuals. 

We  cannot  agree  with  Dr.  Wh^well  that  a  counterpart  of 
Plato's  battle  with  the  Sophists  is  to  be  found  in  the  contrast 
existing  between  such  men  as  Coleridge  and  Ixwke,  each  of 
whom  has  exercised  a  direct  influence  extending  far  beyond  his 
contemporaries.  We  are  much  more  disposed  to  amuiesce  in 
the  account  which  he  has  incidentally  given  us  of  me  *  Anti- 
Sophist'  Dialogues,  as  those  'which  are  employed  in  urging  the 
claims  of  Truth  and  Philosophy  against  Rhetoric  and  Political 
Success.'  t  Only  we  should  be  inclined  to  add  that  many  of 
them  arc  at  the  same  time  busied  with  the  solution  of  real  diffi- 
culties; an  important  step,  as  Aristotle  is  fond  of  obser^'ing,  in 
th<*  elaboration  of  Truth. 

Plato's  philosophy,  like  that  of  Socrates,  was  not  merely  a 
s[i(>cu]ution,  but  a  life.  There  is  a  profound  under-current  of 
moral  conviction,  felt  most  distinctly  perhaps  in  tbe  Republic 
and  Phaedo,  but  discernible  in  all  the  (Halogucs,  even  when  they 
seem  to  approach  opposite  phases  of  thought.  The  death  of 
Socrates  is  always  in  the  background,  and  gives  a  significant 
depth  to  the  whole  colouring.  This  of  itself  makes  an  essential 
<Ufference  lietween  Plato  and  such  men  as  Prodicus  and  Hip- 
pias, — though  it  is  not  denied  that  they  assisted  to  uphold 
momlity. 

If  then;  is  truth  in  the  preceding  remarks,  there  are  two  bonds 
of  'connexion,'  besides  the  simply  Socratic  influence,  which  gi*^ 
coherence  and  hannony  to  Plato's  various  writings :  the  unity  of 
a  more  or    less   continuous   speculative   development,  and  the 

•  aiiTifiaTOi  i^vo/^iovrta.     'Theiot,'  p.  181. 
t  In  hiB  *  Hemarki  an  the  Giergias.' 

Ititl 


Tits  Platonic  Dialogues. 


321 


I 


I 


still  more  unbroken  unity  of  an  nnrelinquishctt  practical  aim ; 
and  the  first  of  these  helps  to  part  as  well  as  to  unite.  Out' 
fwling  of  this  unity  is  in  some  danger  of  being  impaired  In*  ib« 
sharpness  of  l)r,  Wliewcll's  division,  when  he  distin^ishrs 
between  the  Oialo;|ru(»  of  tlie  Socratic  ftchool,  thf  *  Anti-Sophist' 
Hialo^cs  (in  which  Socrates  is  engaj^cd  in  perplexing',  refuting, 
and  ulencing  *■  persons  who  have  been  called  Sophists  by  PIntn 
nr  by  his  commentators '},  and  the  constructive  Dialo^es.  If  thn 
term  '  conlmveraial '  were  substituted  for  'Anti-Sophist,'  the 
ibrec  sectidiis  mi^'ht  W  nllowetl  to  indicate,  though  Himrwhat 
roughly,  iJiTc-e  successive  phases  in  Plata's  litrrarv  rarwr,  A 
place  mif  ht  then  be  found  for  some  pieces  Hike  the  Then>tetus)  in 
which  doctrines  other  than  *  sophistical '  arc  combated.  But  it 
fthouM  not  be  forgotten  that  Plato's  first  thoughts  contain  the 
gtrrin  of  his  later  productions,  and  that  everj' controversy  is  mailc 
subservient  by  him  to  the  one  aim  (if  finding  Truth.  He  it 
always  pressintr  forwards,  ^ven  where  his  work  M*m8  purely 
dicstruc.tive.  The  Lysis  is  not  a  merely  Socratic  dialogue ;  ami 
the  Plupilnis  is  very  far  from  being  merely  '  Anti-Sophist.' 

The  reader  wIm»  has  accompanied  us  sn  far  is  thcrcloRr  perliaps 
prepared  to  aiviuiesro  in  a  slight  mmlificntinn  of  ])r.  Whowell's 
arrangement,  which  we  now  pnipiree,  not  attempting,  however, 
to  deteriniiu!  tliu  exact  rhmntdngiral  tinier. 

I.  We  agree  with  him  in  placing  first  those  dialogues  in  which 
Socmtic  qtiestinns  arc  treated   in   gometliing  approaching  to  die 

Imn-Iy  Socratic  manner.  Such  are  the  Liiciies,  Cluirrnides, 
Cuthyphro,  Ion,  antl  Orpat«"r  Ilipptss.  The  Apology  ami  Critu 
would  niso  hi*  ini;Iu(liHl  in  this  first  series,  and  they  would  lie 
f(>IIowt>d,  alW  a  slight  iiit«!rval,  by  those  which,  while  tlicy  con- 
tain more  of  Plato's  mind,  avti  still  chieily  occupied  with  ques- 
tions raised  by  Socrates.     Such  arc  the  Protagoras  and  Mrno. 

II.  A  second  class,  which  may  admit  of  t'lirtlii-r  snbili vision, 
cimtains  the  dialogiws  in  which  Plato's  own  jihiliKopliy  is  being 
tlcvehi|M-'d  ill  various  aspects  and  in  relation  to  different  forms  of 
thought  The  I'ha-drus  may  be  regarded  as  the  preface  to  this 
miscellanr,  which  will  include,  Wsides  some  important  dia- 
higues  which  Dr.  VVbcwell  rejects,  the  Lvis,  Syriip<;sinin,  fJor- 
ginji,  'nirirtrtus.  C'ratylus,  Phih-hus,  and  i^luedo. 

III.  'Hie  Ilirpublie  may  bo  ^lluwed  to  stand  by  itself,  a*  the 
royal  dialogue.  ** 

IV.  The  Timanu  and  Critias,  followed  at  some  distnncc  br  the 
Laws,  represent  a  still  later  phase  of  Plato's  mind,  which,  thongh 
most  inieresttng;  is  not  in  all  respccta  an  advnnre  oil  what 
[irecedes. 

r%  la 


zn 


Tfte  Phtmie  Dialo^ua. 


s  ■ 


In  tliis  clauiflcation  ^hexe  is  no  difficulty  in  plaring  all  iha, 
more   important   dial<^ne9.      Thc-rc  arc   some  sli^Iitrr   pjn 
ttliicb  ma}'  also  \k  referred,  without  much  Iroublc,   ti>  <uif  < 
other  of  these  four  heads.     Tlius  the  Menexenns  mi^ht  nalurall 
bo  bound  up  with  the  first  scries,  and  the  tluthydemus  with 
scrond. 

Id  what  follows,  we  propose  to  dwell  at  some  lenjrth,  in  tl 
(irder  thus  briefly  liidirated,  on  some  of  the  greater  dlalngui- 
with  the  view  of  bringing  oat  more  fully  the  characteristic  foiitu 
of  the  Phitimic  phih^sophy. 

I.  The  i'rotaj^nis  is  one  of  the  most  charming-  of  Plato'j 
<li.-ilo;;ue« ;  the  chnrm  arising  partly  from  the  dramatic  liveline 
with  which  the  characters  are  diawn,  and  portly  from  the  mtxtu 
of  ironical  and  real  respect  with  which  Protn^rns  himself  a 
treated  by  SfJcratcs.  Evcrv  reader  must  have  smiletl  ovnr 
th'scription  of  die  humble  suite  whom  the  grral  'Sojihist' 
drawn,  like  Oqjheus,  by  his  voire,  out  of  all  the  cities  which  he 
had  viaiti?<l,  and  at  their  comically  respectful  air ;  and  there  is  a 
pleasure,  independent  of  the  progress  of  the  argument,  in  read" 
the  fable  of  Prometheus  and  his  lwother,and  the  graphic  orco 
of  the  nnlinary  education  of  a  Greek.  But  when  we  [wt  do 
the  IhiuIi,  the  question  rises,  What  was  Plain's  aim  in  writing 
whole?    Dr.  VvTicwcIl  says: — 

*  In  its  point  of  view  Uic  tlialogno  ugtoea  w!tli  Iho  dialognu  of  tiw 
Soorstte  school.  Tho  arguments  arc  nearly  the  samo  as  tiioso  in  Iho 
lAchea,  Charmidcfl,  a»r]  Mouo.  Hut  on  object  of  no  last  impurinwo 
than  the  nvjml  ar^romcnts  it  tho  aaaertion  of  tho  sniiertor  TaJuo  of  tho 
Boeratie  mutliud  of  soaking  traths  over  tho  proralcnt  tnodee  of  jtrah 
aurial  diBBortiition  and  oommontatorial  disenasion  of  tho  pfKits.' 

'I'his  is  hardly  enough.     For  it  raises  tlii-  further  question*, 
*hat  relation  do  the  moral  arguments  of  Socrates  stand  to  ih«' 
of  Protngoros?  ami,  What  is  intended  to  be  the  upshot  of  the  d 
Luniun?     Is  there  any  c()nncxion  bet^veen  the  nu-tlwx!  of  Social 
and  die  notions  vtliich  he  advances?     And  arc  we  tr>  supj 
that  the  dialogue  as  a  whole  has  any  positive  menning  over 
alwTc  its  (•mvrrsntional  .ind  dramatic  interest?      On  these  poinu 
we  arc  not  left  merely  to  conjecture.     The  comparison  of  I 
Meno,  and  of  the  generai  spirit  of  Plato's  writings,  comes 
our  aid. 

The  teaching  of  tlie  Meno  is  that  the  ordinary  virtue,  which 
deservedly  praised  in  tlie  world,  <loes  not  spring  from  knowl 
and  accordingly  cannot  \tr  taught.     It  must  be  attributed  tu 
sort  of  iospiraiio:!,  or  divine  instinct.      Bui,   'If  there  were 

virtuuiis 


1 

4 


Tfie  Platonic  Dialogtte*. 


323 


I 
I 


virtuoul  man  who  could  teach  virtue,  bn  would  be  tike  Tiretins 
amongst  the  shndca,  alone  intelligent  and  substantial/ — SurTrep 
•rrapii  aKiAi;  aXijdh;  &i>  wpayfia  ttj)  Trpo?  dpeitjv.  This  saying 
jmt«  into  uiir  lianils  the  kry  t'»  the  Protagoras.  It  clears  uj»  tLe 
apparent  !iiciinsisti>nr*y  of  ilcnvin^  tliat  virtue  vnn  lie  tnuglit, 
while  maintain iiijj:  tliat  it  is  ideiitlral  >vitli  knuwlinl^e;  and 
tliows  the  relerancy  of  the  '  commentatorial  discus&ion  '  of 
Simonidos  to  the  question  abomt  the  unity  of  Virtue. 

Tlic  virtue  of  tlie  statesmen  and  men  of  the  world  who  are 
|ioiiitof)  at  in  the  Mrno,  is  tlie  samr  virtue  wliieli  ProCagnms  and 
the  otlier  S<jphists  ]in)fessed  to  tearli :  the  virtue  wliieli  is  de- 
pendent upon  education,  and  custom,  and  sucial  exij^eucics,  wliich 
is  indi-ed  multiform,  bceause  not  consciously  dcrivrd  from  the 
contemplation  of  truth  and  good,  which  may  approximate  by 
Vflirious  dejfrecs  to  the  standanl  of  gotMlness,  but  has  no  tibsolutc 
pvuud  of  reality  witliin  itstdf.  Plato  is  h^re  in  die-  prrsem;<?  of 
an  intellectual  diflieulty,  which  he  gmpjiles  with  in  (rarnr-st,  yet 
all  the  while  despises  in  heart.  The  Uelativc  and  the  Abs4)lute 
view  of  things  which  we  shall  fmd  aftenvards  conflicting  in  the 
region  of  inetajjh^'sical  speculation,  are  now  doing  battle  in  a 
more  palpable  form  in  the  sphere  of  moral  inquiry  ;  the  subjective 
'process  here  asserts  itself  not  in  the  universe  nor  in  tlie 
mind,  but  as  a  theory  of  virtue  ;  essential  diversity  is  held 
as  a  principle;  degi-ees  of  approximation  arc  laying  claim  to 
exact  scientific  truth.  Plato  fully  felt  the  strength  of  this 
sceptical  jwisltion.  niul  in  tlie  '  Protagoras  '  he  brings  it  inlu  the 
clearest  possible  light,  with  the  confidence  of  one  who  sees  a 
reality  beyond,  which  will  eclipse  its  brilliance.  Two  reHections 
seem  to  underlie  the  saying  that  *  Virtue  is  not  taught.'  First, 
that  virtue  is  not  a  Miniitcti  profession'  like  the  arts,  but  more 
difficult  to  gmsp  in  thought,  Iwcausc  it  emhrnces  the  whole  of 
human  life;  and  sreomlly,  that  what  men  rail  virtue  is  only  an 
tnciimplete  and  shadowy  phase  of  a  thing,  which  is  unstable  ami 
infirm  till  it  is  )ia&<-<l  on  philosophy. 

The  difference  between  Protagoras  and  fSocratcs  about  virtue,  is 
parallel  to  the  diflerenee  Iwiween  their  theories  of  knowing  ami 
Ireiiig.  Prntagnms  says  virtue  is  iliverse  and  can  be  tauglit ; 
Socrates,  if  it  is  diverse,  it  cannot  bi*  taught,  but  it  is  one,  and 
tlien*  must  lie  a  science  t>(  It,  though  that  has  JKit  yet  lM>en  found. 
'llie  result  pointed  at  is  tliat  there  is  a  higher  idea  of  virtue  ilinn 
the  COD  temporaries  of  Socrates  had  conceived,  an  absolute  prin- 
ciple whieli,  if  it  could  be  once  known,  would  be  the  guido  of 
life.  Simonides  is  interjjrcteil  so  as  to  Inrit  that,  whnti-ver 
tipproximatian  might  l>e  made  under  existing  methods,  tlic  rvuiittf 

of 


Thi  Platonic  Diah^tn. 


of  virtue  could  not  \»  an  nttaiaod.     The  ordinmsy  bDVftD  boag 

may  Ae  Itcamiimj  vlrtuims,  but  he  cannot  /«  so.* 

Thu  ivalitv  of  the  lonrr  excellence  is  not  tlcniMl,  thoa^  a 
diflicultv  is  felt  iu  accounting  fur  its  existence.     'Go  tunoagst 
barbariiins,'  Protagoras  is  made  to  say,  *and  you  will  find  wnt 
mnral  culturt'  has  done  for  fireeco.     The  reco^ition  of  hanna 
claims  (aiSa>7  kcu  htKr})  is,  like  the  air  we  hreatbc,  an  imlinct 
civilizo<lhuiiianiuiture.'  A  niche fortbis  'mural  cuUare,'asdt 
Irora  philosophical  training,  is  afterwards  found  tn  thr  Kcpabli 
In  the  mean  time,  the  power   of  rhetoric,  and    the    plaim^ 
tcnrKing  of  the  wlativo  or  subjective  thcorj,t  "nd  the  rlaitns 
onlinary  respectability,  as  well  as  those  of  exalted  pa!>!ic  raeri 
arc  vividly  rcprcM-nted  and  clearly  acknowledged,  whiir  U\  il: 
(lilfnt  contrast  of  an  ideal  standard  they  are  cn-eiljome. 
the  conflict  between  philosophy  and  common  opinion  is  at  i 
heii^ht,  wcare  made  to  feel  the  force  of  common  opinion.    I*h««' 
dramatic  (Fcnius  is  active  in  giving  shape  to  that  whicfa  it  is  tbt 
nim  of  hJH  jtiiil'raophv  to  destroy.^ 

II.   Already,  in  the  '  Ui-cnllrctiim '  tlieorj'  (put  forth  in  answer 
to  Menu's   question,  'Ilntv  will   vou  inquire  almut  what   voa  flo 
not  kjiow?*),  and  possibly^  also  in  the  criticism  of  Simonides, 
Plato  has  ov<T»tcpped  tlie  limits  of  mere  Socrstic  converse.     A 
further  stage  is  rcache<l,  hi>wever,  when  he  takes  up  the  clementt 
nf  other  philosophies  into  that  of  Socrates,  and  ixgins  to  devrIo[W 
ihnt   whifh   is  peculiar  to  himself;  at  oiicr   rcflectinu  upon  hi»' 
own  previous  llioufrhts  and  taking  a  wider  suney  of  the  ttioughts 
III'  others.     The   subject   uf  bis  sjteeulatiun  beeimies   now   more 
abatnict  and  gcuL-ral— not  'Is  virtue  knowledge?'  but  *\Vhat " 
knowledge?*     Not  'Is  virtue  absolutely  one?'  but  'Whni   can 
Iw  discovered  about  absolute  nnd  n-tative  being,  tlie  one  and  the 
many?'     Not  merely,  •!»  pleasure  the  giKxl?*  but  'What  is 
th^  highest  good?*    At  the  same  time  the  Dialectical  methtidj 
Itself  nnd  tlie  philosophical  impulse  which   gives  birth  to  it  an^H 
svmbolically   imaged  forth  as  Love,  whose  end  and  object  i«^^ 
tlie  fruitful  commerce  of  the  soul  with  beauty,  or  of  the  mimt 


t  Frau^nM  ivprrtonta  th*  poiitiT*.  at  Oorfisa  does  the  negaiive  prte  sf 
■ca]iUcii«  1  the  one  SBaertinp  the  nMlit^  of  th«  vbuigliig  sod  rilaUTc,  tne  Mbo 
ikniyiug  Ihr  «xl«t«oc«  of  tu}  < '  t'     i  -cd  ilit-m  iW;  BMin  to  (uraljw 

llm  huHisa  Inttlloct,  ftttliAVf 'i  .n  lo  call  it  Uirih. 

t  »o«»  m»y  br  Miqiri««tl  ui  ......  .  -  "(bai  \irt«e  it  knovlcdre,  if 

tliawiuK  xhhi  it  itnp)i<^  thv  coiupftrtuni  '     » iib  OilnTV  phamiv.    WacdMr 

iliu  bnve  iH^ihiiiK  u^lbv  nainn'  oCiuxi  •  ml  homiietit  ot  uot.  it  u  vsaedy 

pftnillvl  to  tli«  pnmf  in  tlio  ' Tlii'ii'U'tiH  '  tii&t  Liuorlvilp)  b  tK>t  leamtiro,  bocausr 

with 


n 


A 


ITa  FlaUmic  Dialogms. 


32& 


vith  being.  And  while  the  creation  of  tnith  in  the  learner's 
ininil  is  tlir  ronsuminaJJon  uf  this  rit'sire,  Socrates,  as  thr  qiifs- 
tiunlns  spirit,  proniilfs  uadrr  iliviau*  jusistaace  ovrr  Uiis  mental 
travail,  f^iides  it,  by  skilfnl  trmtment,  to  a  prosperous  endings 
aiitl  pronounces  the  iate  of  its  rcault. 

Thff  I'ba^irus  forms  a  splendid  porch  or  encrance-liall  to  this 
set^ml  tilde.  L'Hikine;  l>ack  wJtli  a  proud  smile  on  the  rheto- 
ririatig^  I'latn  still  invites  the  nmrrst  n\  them  •  to  enter  and  find 
tlie  realitr,  "f  whirb  tht;Ir  art  was  only  tJic  rudely  attempted 
Ci>pT.  H'e  have  here,  tfai)ii);^h  f(»r  the  moKt  part,  in  svmlwls  imly, 
the  tiricf  tir  abstract  of  what  Plato  undertakes  to  teach — tlui  tran 
inspiration,  the  true  method  ot'  IcMming,  the  tme  art  of  writinf; 
anil  spcakin;^. 

Dr.  U'bewcll  speaks  of  the  Pli.i>dnis  as  being',  though  full 
of  Ix^autirs,  yet  *  prolix,  rambling,  aofl  iHntastiral.*  This 
judgment  will  hardly  he  cimfirmcd  by  those  who  Iiave  per- 
ceired  the  close  relation  subsisting  in  Plata's  mind  amon?st 
the  three  chief  subjects  treated  of  —  namely,  i«ve,  Uia- 
iectic,  and  Teaching.  The  discussion  turns  in  the  first  place 
upfui  the  CNintrast  between  the  tme  and  the  false  rhetoric  ;  which 
is  in  another  aspect  the  <:nntrast  between  the  true  anil  talse 
poetry,  u  c  between  philosophy  and  other  arts  of  persuading  or 
charming  meo.  Wc  are  made  to  feel  from  the  first  that  there  is 
some  nobler  object  for  the  ingenuous  enthusiasm  of  Plunlrus  than 
the  frigid,  j)ani<loxica!  diatrilx't  on  which  it  U  wasted.  It  is  im- 
piissibie  not  to  see  in  tlie  tlieme  of  tliis  prose  essnv,  *  that  it  is  l»eltf?r 
toyield  to  one  wlio  liives  not  than  (on  lorer,'  a  satire  ««  those  who 
sought  to  tmrb  el<K]uen€M>  by  rules ;  who  told  men  not  to  tmsi  the 
prampttngsof  Naturt%  huttobuyof  tliem  their  '  orthoepy '  or  their 
*auwmoaioon  * — the  tricks  of  speakers  coldly  furnished  forth. 
Socntes,  taking  the  hint  suggestotl  by  this  notion  of  loving  *■  by 
tbecafl,'  pleads  eloquently  against  the  warmth  of  passion  infav<nir 
of  the  coldness  of  r<"a9on.  Here  also  move  !s  mmnt  llian  meets 
die  nu*.  As  reflection  is  a  surer  guide  than  feeling  in  common  life, 
so  in  a  wider  sphere  the  calmness  r>f  phiKnuphy  is  better  than  the 
*  best  and  dust  *  of  political  controTerey.  And  yet,  if  wisilom 
it  cold  and  calm,  whence  came  the  inspiration  which  made 
SscKTrates  so  elo(iuent   in  plcatling  the  muse  of  wisdom?     Phihi- 

Jhv  is  soinethmg  more  than  logi*-.     Tl*e  gmius  of  the  tlelight- 
spol  where  tliev  are  silting,  am!  the  iH-;iuty  'if  Hh;e<lru».  warn 
the  speaker  not  to  depart  thence  till  be  luis  recanted  and  sung  tlie 


V».  I»ocnte»,  Fhcdr.,  p.  S78. 


t  Suaiu  xdmlars  havt*  nuiiituned  tliat  lliii  vritbg  ■«  really  by  L)-(lu,  ui 
iprclj  I'luio'a  panxl;  of  bin  oiylc.  Hut  tliey  are  wvll  aaswored  b)F  K.  F. 
Ofiu,  *  Gt-ssmmvlt*  Abhudlan^cn,'  Ae^pp.  I-SL 


nanu 


and  not 
Vler- 


praiscs 


k 


The  Platonic  Dialog/nu, 

praises  of  Lore — »ot  o{  Uiat  iDtliscriminatr  ptudoD  wliich  gWet 
its  tnnft  to  popular  oratory,  but  of  the  heaTeotv. 

'  For  madness  is  not  one,  but  diverse  ;  onci  tbat  there  is  ft 
heavenly  madness,  the  iospirution  uf  prophets,  and  divliicrc,  aad 
of  JHKM5,  witnriiscs.  But  u>  undcrstnuci  something'  nf  the  modueai 
which  is  rcalh-  divine,  we  must  tbiuk  of  tbc  immortal  nature 
of  tliesoul.'  Then  fuUows  the  famous  myth,  in  which  we  see  how 
cloaely  tbe  philosophic  impulse  (tore)  and  the  dialectical  method 
(diuresis  and  %fa&go^;E)  arc  associated  in  Plato's  mind.  *  No 
soul  that  lias  nut  sccu  the  plain  of  Truth  can  tmter  the  funu  of 
Man.  For  Man  must  be  able  to  rise  from  many  jiarticular  soif 
sations  to  one  universal  conception  of  each  kind.'  Ami  tills  he 
does  by  recollecting  the  eternal  forms  which  the  soul  has  once 
seen  in  her  winged  state.  Of  these  the  Beautiful  alone  assumes 
a  shape  which  can  pierce  the  avenues  of  mortal  sight,  and 
awaken  those  higher  perceptions  which  extend  also  to  the 
Righteous,  the  Holy,  and  the  True.  The  process  which  now 
begins  is  spoken  of  as  tlie  pre|)aration  of  tiie  soul  for  antither 
winged  state  hereafter.  The  imjmlse  which  leads  tn  Oils  endeavuor 
is  the  white  horse  in  the  jmir  which  draw  the  chariot  of  the  soul ; 
Uie  dark  liorse  is  the  emblem  of  tlie  low  desires  which  aim  at 
the  enjiiymi-nt  of  the  particular  b(»lily  forms  of  beauty  here,  jj 
Tlie  struggle  between  these  two  at  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  object^| 
is  graphimlty  described.  The  white  and  aspiring  bone  ts^H 
struck  witli  awe,  liecause  he  sees  the  reflection  of  the  etenml 
beauty  which  he  has  once  beheld,  and  which  now  beams  upon 
liim,  as  in  a  vision,  from  its  lofty  throne.  The  dark  burse 
rushes  madly  forwanis.  Tlie  office  of  rea3*)n  is  to  curb  the  lower 
hive,  and  at  unci-  tu  follow  and  direct  the  higher.  Tlie-U  there 
springs  up  a  sacred  jiassion  between  tlie  lover  anil  the  lored  onC| 
in  which  the  claims  of  the  really  licautiful  and  tnio  are  never 
forgotten — the  se^-cral  stages  of  which  are  set  before  us  as  in  a 
painting.  Gmdually,  but  surely,  the  brute  is  'kept  under  and 
brought  into  subjection,'  while  tlie  god  within  tliem  Iwgins  to 
*  prune  his  feathers  and  let  grow  his  wings.'  'Hie  first  stirrings 
of  the  '  new  sti-ong  wine  of  love' — consciously  in  the  lover^  unron- 
sciously  in  the  beloved  one — arc  depicted,  in  a  passage  which  is 
one  of  the  triumplis  of  language,  widi  tlic  most  vivid  trutli  and 
power.  (It  should  Ix-udded  dial  there  are  features  in  the drscrip- 
tion  which  show  the  impas&able  gulf  existing  betwetm  Heathen 
and  Christian  morals.)      The  pure  love  of  die  invisible  beauty  ' 


I 


en  MJ 

-  '"H 

the  visible  is  the  birth  of  the  s«>ul  into  a  new  life,  which  ph!la-^| 
sophy  is  to  ilevelupc  into  an  immortal  l>eing.  ^M 

vie-  return  to  tne  earth,  *our  habitation,'  and  to  the  writing 
of  Lysiat,  and  the  field  of  rhetoiic,  from  which  we  t<K)k  our 

adventurous 


A 


771^  Platonic  Dutlofpte*, 


387 


adrcntUTotu  flight.  The  thoughts  which  hare  been  develojietl 
arc  npplicable,  not  only  unhcUiric  iiiul  poetry,  to  which  they  have 
>jL'en  incidentally  applied,  but  to  statesmanship  and  tiic  icri/iar/  uf 
decrees.  He  who  is  bi^nt  on  seeing'  everything  in  tlic  light  of 
universal  principles,  and  lias  learnt  sometlung  of  the  nature 
of  the  soul,  will  know  how  to  mould  written  ami  s]ioken  Innguag« 
to  true  parposeg,  and  to  vary  it  according  to  the  character  and 
capacity  of  Iiis  hearer.  The  true  rhetoric  is  the  art  which  edu- 
cates the  human  mind,  and  imparts  to  it  the  love  of  truth,  so 
leading  man  towartts  the  vision  of  the  Eternal.  This  difTers  from 
the  art  of  Lysias  and  his  friends  as  science  differs  from  a  mere 
knack — distinguishing  and  combining  the  fonns  of  existence 
according  Ut  nature,  and  at  the  same  time  discerning  tlie  state  of 
the  individual  soul,  so  as,  while  still  aiming  at  the  highest  truth, 
to  accommodate  the  mode  of  communication  to  particular  per- 
sons. As  a  means  to  this  end,  prose  writing  *  (at  least  in  its  onlt- 
nary  form)  is  far  inferior  to  tlmt  living  dialectic,  by  which, 
through  the  immediate  intercourse  of  mind  with  mtnd,  fresh  dts* 
coveries  of  truth  —  the  genuine  children  of  the  intellect — are 
bom :  creations  of  our  own  reason  and  enthusiasm  in  a  kindreU 
soul.  Herein  the  saying  of  Lysias  is  reverseil.  Written  teach- 
ing is  like  the  influence  of  the  cold  lover.  With  tliis  reflection, 
and  with  the  prayer  of  Socrates,  to  lie  fair  within  and  rich  in  wealth 
uf  raimi,  thdf  Ode  to  the  Immortality  of  JLove  and  Truth  fitly 
concludes. 

Several  thoughts  are  here  concentrated  which  in  other 
dialogues  are  expanded  sejjarately,  Tlie  theory  of  'Love,*  for 
instance,  is  matured  in  tlie  Symposinin,  as  that  of  Recollection 
had  been  anticijMted  in  the  Mono :  this  renppears  again,  together 
with  a  clearer  <loctTino  of  Immortality,  in  the  Plucdo ;  the  rela- 
tion of  the  teacher  to  the  taught,  and  of  the  mind  to  knowledge, 
is  more  fully  illustrated  tn  the  TTiea?tetU5 ;  the  true  Oiaipclie  is 
developp<l  in  the  Sophisia,  Politicii^  l*nrmenides,  and  I'liilebiis; 
white  the  false  is  ridiculed  ut  h-ngth  in  the  Kutliydemus.  Anil, 
on  the  more  pra<rtica!  side,  tbo  Politicus  endeavours  to  draw  the 
line  Iwtwcen  the  true  and  false  *  writer  of  decrees,'  just  as  the 
rhetoricians  receive  a  separate  rastigation  in  the  Gorgias. 

Now  in  following  up  each  of  IJiese  suhJiH-ls  with  continual 
reference  to  liis  masu-r's  spirit  t(f  inquiry,  Pinto  is  idways 
*  conversing'  with  some  other  mind  either  in  tlie  past  or  present, 
and  realizing  some  jiarticular  aspect  of  philosophy.  And 
in  doing  so  he  has  sountlcd  every  note  from  the  very  bnsi- 
slring  of  materialism   to  the  unheard  Imnnoiiii^  of  Pythagorean 

*  Coinpare  Prot..  p.  339,  «t  Si  harifottA  waA  n,  Atrttf  p(fi\M  aMf  l)(aitgi> 
Imeflroafn,    TbcsL,  p.  1SI,  in  ni  Mirmt  r^t  filB^fv  i'^iy^a. 

mysticism. 


The  Platonic  Dialogvm. 


raysticisin.  Even  if  he  faiut  ntlilccl  notUin|r  \n  pliil<Kophy,  Uia 
works  would  hnve  bcm  must  vatuable  as  tin;  inlorpi-c-tntiMn  o(  m\X 
that  prero<le3.  It  wntilrl  liavr  Uofii  nii  siniill  gnin  lu  hnvn  tlio 
tmmbstantJal  world  nf  Uiuugbt  l>n>itt;bt  birftirc  Lht-  imaffiiMtJiio 
as  Tiridly  hy  him  as  the  norld  of  passkra  is  by  Sb&k«i>]>eiirp,  anil 
by  HomtT  tbat  of  heroic  actiim.  (W'e  may  6gurc  to  ourselves 
bts  genius  as  that  of  Sbnkespr^am  intrilfrtunliicrd,  aimI  ^<>aile<l 
forward  bv  an  ever-picspnt  mejral  ami  pbilnsopbit;  niulivr,  wliich 
tbr  death  of  Socmtrs  liail  miuld  unallejable.)  I'lalo  is  not  mt'trlr 
philosopher  and  port.  He  is  the  j»oct  of  iJiilusophy.  Hut  lie  is 
more  tluui  tliis.  Not  nnlv  does  be  )*ive  a  periect  expression  to 
the  different  phases  of  reflection ;  he  creates  it  anew.  While  his 
iniajjination  is  hodyinsj  forth  tlie  forms  of  tliinps  iinserrn  ;  while 
his  humour  plays  liphtK  witli  Ihp  fuiblcs  ui  eonl*'m|inrar\" 
thnugbt,  his  rrason  (-omjiruhrtulfi  nil  that  it  Burve>s,  judgi^  and 
tnndrratns  between  coiit>--mliiif;  factions,  and  i^ivcs  pi-uportiun 
and  mmninK  to  the  parts  of  the  imperfect  Jabric  by  rocoostnici- 
in^  tJM  whole. 

In  the  intermediate  period  of  his  acti\*ity  which  we  arc  coo- 
Btderiit^,  liis  mind  still  apiM-ars  as  niany-sidml,  ttot  yoi  perfectly 
in  b.iriiiony  with  itself;  and  still  retaining  a  |inraduxi('nl  ntliluilr- 
towanls  the  majority  nf  men.  \et  there  !£  ajipnreut  everywhere 
ilie  consciousness  of  A  single  eifort — the  endeavour  Ui  conceive 
more  clearly  the  menial  phenomena  which  had  arisen  in  the  aiet 
of  Socratic  inquiry  and  the  realities  corrcspomling  (o  them. 
These  phenomena  mav  be  resolvwl,  as  liefnrr,  into — 1,  the  Iwlicf 
in  an  nii^ilut<>  staml'iril  nf  Kuuwled^i.-  and  Hc^iii^;  2,  tlir  inr* 
ItTrssiblr  impui.sc-  to  L-ontiime  wnn-hiiifj  fur  diis ;  ii,  the  mrtliod 
uf  rnmbirtinfj  this  searcli,  and  of  coming  nearer  tu  the  olgcti  of 
it  by  ennvi^rsationai  de6niti(Xi. 

I'liere  is  more  art  in  these  Uialo^es  than  in  most  of  tboeo 
rontxined  in  the  first  .series.  Tlie  form  nf  c]urstion  and  Answer 
ia  iiwd  less  as  a  means  of  pr<i]w>slne  and  9otvin<;  tlilbculti*^  ami 
with  a  mnn>  marked  iutt^ition  i>l  h-sidin^  the  readrr  towards  tlie 
writrr's  point  of  view.  'ITierr;  is  a  more  definite  tendency 
towanls  positive  tesalts,  though  the^c  arc  oUim  nut  dibtiitetly 
stated.  When  iSocntes  himself  speaks  of  beiu^  perplexed  and 
doubtful,  we  arp  less  inrlined  to  believe  him,  because  the  inquiry 
is  evidmtiv  not  merely  fullnwed  but  directetl  bv  him.  Not 
that  h<*  is  bv  unv  means  fiKblinc:  with  shadows;  rral  difficulties 
rpm:iiii  to  (^mpple  with.  Only  lhi«c  arc  i«nrpiv<nl  of  in  a  more 
c*':  oive   way,  and   are   more   firmly   and  systt-matically 

oceed  to  examine  sepamtely  the  chief  elements  of 
'  lliis  period. 

1.  Tbe 


I 


I 


I 


1.  Tlir  snul  wUirb  aniinntcs  it  is  tlic  rclt^ioos  aeftl  witK  which 
llie  tm|uiriis  arr  comlucted.  'ITil'  pursuit  ol'  trnth — of  tfaiit  tinjlh 
bv  which  mm!  arp  to  live — is  regard(>d  as  the  one  work  whirh 
is  worth  doing  in  tho  world.  The  mind  which  is  ready  to  acknow- 
\ciigc  ihp  cxistrnrc  of  somiMljing;  to  b*^  percci^xd  ap«rt  from 
teme,  is  '  hraulil'ul.'  tlinugli  uniMiornojl  wilh  [ntmmuI  ehariiiB.* 
The  same  mind  needs  not  to  ho  convinced  with  argtlBHllts  tlmt 
D^ity,  anil  not  Chance,  is  the  true  cause  of  tlunji^t  There 
wove  not  wanting  thoH>  who  turned  the  Socntic  coafession  of 
ignorance  to  tltp  annihilntion  of  the  Socrattc  spirit  of  inquiry* ; 
hut  thrr  are  met,  not  so  much  by  onv  proof  (^scc,  howcrer, 
the  nrgiimfiit  in  the  *MeDo*),  as  b_r  the  unqiK-nchahle  faith 
in   the    jwiwer    of  Mind    ami  the    exi&tenre  of  tliinjfs  not   seen. 

*  How  will  you  prix-eeii,  Socmtes,  if  you  ore  denial  the  use 
of    this    term    Knowledge,     which    you   hare    not    defined?* 

*  While  I  am  Sorrates.  I  sliall  not  relinquish  ti,'  is  the  answex.^ 
lliis  umlnunicil  impulse  towards  the  attainment  and  cw- 
templnljon  of   universal   truths    is   spoken    of    in   various  ways, 

'hwt  it  is  most  frequently  symlwlizpil  as  Eros,  love.  The  soul  of 
the  philosopher  L*  described  as  from  the  first  averse  to  rest  in  the 
particular  circumstances  with  which  he  ts  surroumled  here,  or  in 
the  contemplation  of  particular  objects.^  D«pising^  these,  he 
seeks  to  Ttcw  everything  in  its  onirersal  aspert ;  to  know,  that  is, 
not  this  or  that  man,  but  human  nature ;  to  study,  not  instances 
nf  private  wrouc,  but  justice  and  injustice  in  theoiselves ;  and, 
tnsteail  nf  envying  tho  great,  to  contemplate  real  ^nttiiess  and 
real  hajipiness.  Tu  have  seen  something  of  these  tluDgi  is  to 
feci  lliv  necessity  of  mounting  upwards  in  action  as  well  as 
thought ;  while  a  just  and  holy  life  inspired  with  wisdom  makes 
the  man  tike  to  Gud,  conforminf^  him  to  the  eternal  pnttem  of 
the  Divino-H  This  is  a  more  literal  account  of  tlie  nspimtions 
fhich  are  mnhically  described  as  the  desire  of  the  soul  for  the 
uity,  and  truth,  and  goodness  which  it  has  once  seen,  and  the 
jrcoHection  of  which  is  gradually  awakened  by  the  sight  of  the 
Ixraotiful  on  earth.  This  passion  of  the  reason  is  the  subject  of 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  Plato's  dialogues,  the  *S_vmposium,* 
in  which  the  several  Ijanquttci's  are  made  to  sing,  each  in  a  strain 
peculiar  to  him,  the  praises  of  love.  The  ciinception  fonned  by 
ic'h  speaker  is  distinct,  ami  yet  the  dialogue  is  cMiductetl  not 
idioul  a  tacit  refereme  to  that  *  figure  veiled  to  whom  they  sing ;' 
all,  as  Alcibiades  bluntly  hints  to  them,  are  *  bitten '  with  the 
lol  Socratcs.1l    Pbndrus,  the  beloved  youth,  descants  genetally 


•  '  ThewL,"  p.  ISA. 
t  •ThMK..'  p.  19:. 
I  "Than.,  f,  176. 


t  '  Snpk^'  p.  2flA. 
$  'ThwpL,   p.  173, 


in 


330 


The  Platonic  Dialo^um, 


in  praise  of  Wc,  the  invincible,  the  eldest  god.  Pausanios,  the 
prtct's  lover,  distinguishes  (with  Sorrnte*  in  the  'Pha-*!™*') 
Lictwcen  the  common  and  the  heavenly  love,  corresponding,  that 
to  the  modem,  this  to  the  eternal  Iieauty.  Kryximachus,  the 
physician,  speaks  of  love  (in  tlie  spirit  of  Em|)cdiKlc3)  as  the 
one  power  which  pervades  all  nature,  brirfrinff  into  harmony 
what  before  was  contrary.  Aristophanes  grotesquely  sees  man- 
kind by  a  Divine  Nemesis  bereft  of  half  themsrives,  and  wander- 
ing forlorn  and  sadly  in  search  of  their  ihiubUs.  Tlien  AgnOion 
tlie  poet  sings  that  love  is  not  the  *  eldest  god,'  but  ever  young, 
tender,  and  moving  delicately,  yet  with  power  to  still  the  winils 
and  soothe  the  anguished  breast.  The  incooBistcncy  of  these  dif- 
ferent encomiums  shows  that  so  far  love  h;»s  been  praised  rhelori- 
cnlly,  ratlierthan  philos^iphlrally.  F'"arh  speaker  has,  however, eon- 
Iributed  some  hint  towardiillic  dlstcmrst;  which  follows,  rspeciidly 
I'nusanias,  by  separating  the  earthly  from  the  heavenly  luvc; 
Kryximachus,  by  speaking  of  love  as  a  universal  poivcr ;  and 
Aristophnnrs,  by  destTihing  it  as  the  -want  of  somrthing,  which 
h(-  particularizes  as  our  otlier  self.  Agndion  im^l  also  introduced 
a  useful  distinction  hetWL-en  Luvt*  and  his  works.  Itut  tliLTi*  ts  a 
deeper  distinction,  which  liad  escaped  them  all,  iJiough  Aristo- 
jibanes  came  near  to  it,  but  which  is  now  drawn  by  Socrates, — 
between  love  and  the  object  of  love.  Love  is  not  immortal ;  it 
is  a  contradiction  to  speak  of  '  immortal  longings  ;'  he  would  not 
be  himself  were  that  which  is  desired  jxisscsscd.  'llierefore  he 
must  be  in  need  of  sumL-diing.  Hl-  is  not  ignorant,  yet  hr  has 
not  wisdom ;  he  is  not  beauliful,  though  to  call  him  ugly  wimld 
l)e  ft  sin ;  he  is  far  from  evil,  yet  he  has  not  excellence.  He  was 
conceived  when  Aphroditt;  was  bom.  His  lather  is  InvenduOf 
the  son  of  Thought,  his  mother  Poverty.  He  resembles  his 
mother  outwardly,  but  his  father  in^vardly.  He  is  not  rich,  and 
sleek,  and  fair,  but  wizened  and  squalid,  j(/((w/('as,  ami  iritfiatU  a 
home^  lyiiR  on  the  ground  uncovereil,  in  doorways  or  in  the 
opi^n  street,  l^ut  he  is  full  of  schemes  and  plans  for  aiming  at 
th(^  good  and  bc-autiful,  dauntless  and  bold,  huntsmanlike  ever 
weaving  some  conlrivaucc  by  which  wisdom  is  to  be  ovcrtnkeo. 
And  often  he  alternates  between  his  father's  and  his  mother's 
nature  ;  now  full  of  immorUiIity,  now  »Ur\eil  t4>  (hatli,  aiMl  then 
revived  ^ain."      Knowledge  is  the  wealth  h«!  seeks,      lienee  ho 

"  C'u&iparc  Sbakrtprare,  Sonn'et  Ixxv.— 

*  And  for  tlip  pence  of  yftu  T  hold  locli  Hrif# 
As  'iwixt  ■  miwr  and  hiH  wriiltlt »  round, 
Soiuctinic  all  full  with  feasuu^  on  _vonr  Ugbl, 
And  liy  and  by  clcaii  fiiarvM  tor  n  look  ; 

Thus  1I11 1  pi:K-  anil  i>iiHV'it  day  liy  daj-, 
Or  ((lututouig  on  nil,  or  all  Bwaj.* 


The  PlcUonie  Dialoffues. 


331 


1b  not  fooUali,  thoagh  he  is  not  wise ;  for  folly  is  unconscious 
igiKHTincc,  liut  Lovp  knows  tliat  he  knows  nothing:,  nml  desires  to 
Icnutv.     Siich  is  Love  considered  in  himself. 

In  order  to  understand  tlie  works  of  Love,  bis  Object  must  be 

I  snore  accurately  defined,  lliere  is  something  which  all  rrealures 
desire,  and  this  is  not  ximpty  the  'good/  nor  simply  'the  other 
half;'  !.«.,  soraething  nhirh  they  have  not  which  is  their  own. 
But  they  desire  some  absent  ffood  which  shall  be  their  otOL' 
Still  this  is  too  general  an  account  of  that  special  good  possession 
which  is  the  end  of  love.      TTiis  is  not  the  beautiful  merely,  but 

"•  rreatif)n  tliTnug;h  the  beautiful/  as  the  outward  assurance  of  im- 
mortality. Thus  tliat  love,  whose  end  is  natural  offspring,  is  satis- 
fied by  the  contemplation  of  our  own  Ufe  made  permanent ;  in  our 
children  we  seem  to  live  again.  'Vhe  love  of  fame  is  the  desire  of 
pnulucing  noble  deeds,  in  which  our  name  and  our  energy  shall  live 
on  for  ever,  niese  are  one  kintl  of  olTspringof  the  sotil.  Another 
kind,  whirli  is  prizml  still  inon-  htghty,  is  that  already  sjmkcn 
of  in  the  *  Phrrdpis,'  the  creation  of  noble  thoughts,  of  true  disco- 
veries, by  the  intercoorse  of  mind  with  mind.  The  man  whose 
soul  is  teeming  with  invention  first  loves  the  beautiful,  even  in 
biHlilv  forms,  more  than  another  ;  Init  bis  gmnd  delight  is  tn  mi?(ft 
with  a  beautiful  siml,  thnnigh  wliirh  lie  may  ln'gi*l  fair  chihlren, 
that  is,  true  aec'imnts  of  things.  Such  arc  the  noblest  pledges  of 
affection,  the  best  monuments  of  fame,  like  the  good  poems  and 
noble  institutions  handed  down  to  us  from  them  of  ohf. 

But  there  is  a  love  higher  tluin  llie  purest  human  intercourse, 
whose  aflections  are  ftxetl  on  nothing  lower  than  the  Idra  uf 
beauty.     Towanis  this  the  soul  is  led  by  a  continuous  ascent — 

:  first  gajting  on  one  beauteous  person,  then  perceiving  the  resem- 
blance of  others  to  this,  until  it  knows  the  beautiful  in  persons 
everywhere;  from  this  rising  to  the  contemplation  of  beautiful 
Souls;  and  from  this,  ng.-iin,  to  study  the  iM'auties  of  life  nml 
action,  and,  higlior  still,  tti  the  beauties  which  science  unfolds; 
until,  at  leiigtli,  tlien?  is  attained  the  conception  of  one  supreme 
science — the  science  of  absolute  beauty,  in  which  the  soul  finds 
an  all-absorbing  delight. 

Lastly,  as  if  to  show  wliat  in  the  preceding  discourse  wastym- 
holii-nt  and  what  was  real,  the  person  of  Socrates  himself  is 
Tu<!ely  uQveilcil  by  Alcibiades  (wikj  breaks  in)  as  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  true  love.  He  is  rejinsented  (and  the  portrait  is  Do 
doubt  historical)  as  being,  under  the  ironical  outward  garb  uf 
his  erotic  profession,  absolutely  pure  from  the  taint  of  vicious 


I 


33S  T/m  Platottie  Dktloffuet. 

desire,  and  full  of  noble  tbii^  within  * — a  lover  of  the  beantiful 
apart  from  all  the  *  noiuense '  of  transitory  objects.  In  the  life 
of  Socrates  we  arc  led  to  think  the  ideal  '  Eroi*  which  he  himself 
described  was  actual ;  and,  in  the  narration  of  Alcibiadea,  he 
indeed  rises  to  the  height  of  what  a  Greek  was  able  to  conceive 
of  virtue. 

It  will  be  easilj  seen,  especially  if  the  *  Phsedrus  *  is  com- 
pared, how  closely  the  above  symbolic  teaching  is  connected 
with  the  mythical  and  religious  aspect  of  the  ideas,  and  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  This  last  is  made  the 
immediate  subject  of  the  *  Phoedo.'  Here  the  same  idealising 
effort  which  was  intended  by  the  symbolic  '  love '  is  spoken  of  widi 
deeper  solemnity  as  the  preparation  for  death.  In  the  'Banquet' 
philosophy  was  found  to  be  the  true  kernel  of  this  present  life  ;  in 
the  *  Phffido '  it  is  discerned  to  be  the  ripening  germ  of  a  future 
one.  As  in  the  former  dialogue  the  soul  is  imagined  as  rising 
by  die  staircase  of  limited  affections  to  that  absolute  contem- 
plation in  which  these  are  absorbed,  so  in  the  latter  the  immortal 
part  in  us  is  represented  as  shaking  off  by  degrees  the  coil  of 
sensible  things, 

'  this  earthly  load 
Of  Death,  called  Life,  which  us  £K>m  life  doth  sever.*  f 

Plato's  feeling  of  immortality  seems  to  have  been  quickened 
through  his  contact  with  Pythagorean  thinkers,  but  the  form 
which  it  assumes  with  liim  is  characteristic ;  the  belief  in  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  is  allowed  by  him  to  stand  or  fall  with 
tlie  eternity  of  those  ideas  which  are  the  true  objects  of  mind, 
which  the  soul  has  seen  in  a  previous  state,  and  only  finds  the 
imperfect  likeness  of  them  here  in  things  which,  to  uso  the 
strangely  Platonic  words  of  Shakespeare, 

'  Are  but  dressings  of  a  former  sight/  ^ 

And  it  should  be  noticed,  as  a  point  liable  to  be  overlooked  by 
the  modem  reader,  that  the  life-long  struggle  towards  immor- 
tality described  in  the  '  Piuedo '  is  quite  as  much  the  endeavour 
lo  get  free  from  the  limitations  and  contradictions  of  sensible  per- 
ception as  to  be  relensnl  from  the  disturbing  influences  of  desire. 
2.  Plato  has  been  often  interpi*ete<l,  censuretl,  and  admired,  as 
if  he  were  a  mystical  writer ;  and  the  above  remarks  may  seem 
to  confirm  such  an  impression.  But  the  side  of  his  traching 
which  we  have  just  noticed  will  be  most  imperfectly  under- 
stocxl  unless  studied   in  connexion'  with  another,  at   first  sight 


% 


*  Compare  th«  '  Fbicdniit,'  iab/in.  f  Miltou.  t  froiuict  cxxiii. 

verv 


TJm  Piatmie  JOtabifuet.  333 

Terj  di&rent,  but  oereT  lot  a  moment  separated  from  it  by 
Plato  himself.  His  love  of  truth  is  do  mere  aspiration,  but  is 
ever  accompanied  with  the  most  intense  intellectual  effort.  The 
desire  and  the  actual  search  go  hand-ln-hand.  It  is  the  invi- 
sible,  but  not  the  incognisable,  which  he  strives  to  grasp.  The 
forms  of  existence  must  be  distinct,  or  they  are  nothing  to  him. 
The  unity  of  the  mind  itself  and  its  independence  of  the  senses 
is  not  suffered  to  remain  a  mere  dreamlike  consciousness;  it 
must  be  placed  clearly  before  the  eye  of  reason. 

When  Socrates,  by  professing  ignorance,  set  up  an  absolute 
standard  of  knowledge,  he  did  not  merely,  like  Parmenides, 
assert  his  belief  in  Absolute  Being,  but  continued  asking,  ffliat 
is  a  state,  virtue,  government  ? — u  e.,  what  is  the  true  account  of 
them  ?  Plato  found  an  exjuression  for  the  aim  of  this  endeavour 
in  two  words  which  Socrates  had  doubtless  himself  used,  though 
in  a  less  technical  sense,  X0709  'account,'  'definition,'  and 
€t&>9,  *  kind '  or  *  fwm  ' — i.  e.,  the  universal  nature  corresponding 
to  a  common  name.  These  are  respectively,  in  modem  language, 
the  subjective  and  objective  end  of  what  Mr.  Grote  has  called 
*  the  scientific  operation.'  The  word  XorftK  is  also  frequently 
applied  to  the  discussion  through  which  a  definition  is  sought 
for,  while  the  habitual  use  of  such  discussions  is  called  \oyoi. 
Further  the  method  itself  (the  inductive  process  by  which 
general  definitions  or  conceptions  are  approached)  is  spoken  of 
in  the  abstract  as  the  '  conversational  method '  or  '  dialectic,' 
SiaXeKTiK^.  And,  with  the  exception  of  the  famous  l^ea 
(idea)  which  is  in  the  first  place  a  more  picturesque  et£o«, 
the  terminology  of  Plato's  *  transcendentalism '  is  already  com- 
plete. Out  of  elements,  apparently  so  simple,  when  brought 
into  contact  with  a  few  surrounding  theories,  grew  his  philo- 
sophy of  the  mind,  of  its  highest  object,  of  JVIan  and  of  Nature. 

The  earlier  efforts  of  the  'applied  Dialectic,'  in  the  Thesetetus, 
appear  at  iirst  sight  purely  destructive.  The  relative  theory  of 
knowledge  is  shown  to  be  not  even  relatively  true.  The  Heracli- 
tean  doctrine  of  motion  is  made  to  move  and  vanish  away.  And 
thus  the  mind  is  robbed  of  the  fallacious  support  ofaso-called  phi- 
losophy, which  «icouraged  its  natural  tendency  to  rest  contentedly 
within  the  limits  of  its  individual  impressions.  To  use  Plato's 
own  image,  the  bonds  are  loosed  and  the  man  is  enabled  to  turn 
away  from  the  shadows  on  the  pris<m  wall.  Here  the  negative  side 
of  the  work  of  Socrates  is  generalized.  The  *  conceit  of  knowledge 
without  the  reality '  is  set  forth  with  ihe  utmost  ingenuity  as  a 
philosophical  theory  in  order  to  be  destroyed.  '  One  neck '  is 
given  to  hydra-headed  ignorance  that  it  may  be  despatched 
at  a  blow.     Vet  the  consciousness   of  particular  and  relative 

impressions 


334 


The  Platom'n  Dinlotjntea, 


imprcssioQS  which  has  been  cliciUKl,  ii  rather  mluccd  to  it«i 
placp   than   absoliitrly   destroyed.     The    ai-knowlnl^mpnt    that 
st-nsatinii  is  )Hin-Oy  rnlativc,  ntit  mily  helps  us  in  dividing  sense' 
from  kiiimli'df^jo ;  it  is  a  sti?p  gaintxl  in  the  direction  of  a  theorr 
of  sensatidii.     And  that  I'lalo  felt  it  to  be  so,  afterwards  if  not  at 
the  time,  appears   from   Ids  own    account   of  sensation    in    thr 
Tima'us.*     The   same  nejfative   result  is  also  a    positive   step 
towards    the    di-rinitjon    nf   knowledf;e.      Fur    tf   knciwledgc    is 
nowlicrc  in  tlie  sphere  uf  sense,  it  follows    that  the  mind  his 
ubjcet:i  higher  tlian  sensible  things.    And  the  disciple  of  Soctate* 
has  little  difhcultv  in  fixing  upon  some  of  these.     /7m'ni/,  for! 
instance,  is  not  perceived  by  sense,  for  it  belonps  to  the  objects 
uf  all  the  senses.     And  so  of  GwkIiicss,  Benuly,  Resemblance, 
DilTereurr,  and    Number.      But  we  can  have  opinion  of  these 
tliinjifs  as  well  as  knowlcd^* ;  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  false , 
opinion;  whereas  knowledge  must  be  always  true,     llus  opens | 
a  fresh  difficulty,  which  is  in  fact  only  a  more  subtle  form  of 
that  already  dispose*!  of,  *  How  con  our  individual  impressions 
be  disproveil  ?  '    Tins  now  returns  ujwn  us  in  tlic  (juestion.  How  i 
can  a  real  operation  of  mind   have  »n  unreal  i>bject,  since  whati 
is  known  is  real,  and  what  is  unknown  cannot  be  present  to  the 
mind  ?     yevenU  eaijrts  are  made  to  get  rid  of  the  perplexity  wrca- 1 
stoned  by  this  argument,  which  runs  parallel  to  Zeno's  proof  of  j 
the  impossibility  of  motion.    No  satislbctor}'  solution  is,  however, f 
proposed,  and  we  arc  left  to  reflect  that  something  more  is  needed ' 
in   order  to  make  good  the  distinction  between  knowledge!  and 
opinion,  than  the  tlieory  which  is  given  as  a  last  resort  of  a  process 
between  sensation  arnl  memory,  even  though  meinor}'  be  made 
to  include  abstractions  from  sensible  things.     This  much  oal/i 
is  clear,  that  knowledge  is  distinct  even  from  true  opinion.      Fori 
on.  opinion  without  real  groun<t8  may  hap|ien  to  lie  tme.     Whati 
ctmstitutes,  then,  the  '  real  gniunil '  of  knowlwlge  ?    TTie  Socratio] 
answer  would  be,  *  The  jiowcr  of  giving  an  ticroitnf,  or  reason.'    But 
how  is  tliis  to  be  interpreted?     Is  it,  as  the  Pythagoreans  seem, 
to  have  dreamed,  the  comprehension  of  a  certain  harmony  be-J 
twcen  elements  which  are  themselves  unknown  and  can  only  bo] 
onmcd  V     Hnw  is  tliis  ]x>ssible  ?     F<ir  if  the  complex  harmony  i*! 
known,   must  not  the  simple   element    Im  known  also?      UnlRnl 
we  (iHicetvcof  the  *  whole    as  an  abstract  nnncthing  indrpeiidrn(l 
of  its  component  parts  ;  but  then  will  it  not  be  simple  and  there- 
fore unknown  ?     Abamloning  this  line  of  thought  for  the  present,, 
wc  retain   from  Jt   only  the  notions  of  an  element  and  of 
abstract  whole.      Docs  the  true  analysis  of  such  a  whole  into  it 


parts,  tlien,  constitute  an  account,  nnd  is  this  tlie  tpst  of  kiiotv- 
Ictlge?  No;  ftir  kiiunlitlgc  implivs  not  tiirrrly  truth  in  une 
case,  but  certaintv  in  all.  !lut  su]i|km<>  we  ndtl  tUv  power  of 
distinguishing  tiits  u'hulo  from  rvurv  other.  Well;  but  do  wc 
mean  to  add  the  hnowletlqc  ur  the  true  opinion  of  this  distinction  ? 
In  thr  latter  aisr  we  have  added  notliinp  to  'true  opinion;^  in 
the  former  the  term  knov:ledt/v  still  n'mains  undefuietL 

Such,  compresseil  into  a  few  wtinls,  is  the  argument  of  the 
'  ThetFtetua.'  At  the  close  of  it  %ve  see  tlie  mind,  after  beine 
tnmiticipated  from  the  prison  of  sense  and  assure<l  of  its  power 
of  grasping  tnitli,  still  fluttering  uneasily  in  an  unrcsistinR  aimos- 
pbere,  and  askin;;  'How  shall  I  know  that  I  kn«w?'  AlthtHigh 
tlie  answer  to  this  has  Ix-en  alreiiely  anlieipated  in  a  mythical 
form,  h^~  tlie  liyjiothesis  of  recollection,  it  is  not  now  at.  once  given 
to  the  inquirinj^  reason.  For  knuwle<lge  cannot  be  conceived 
of  apart  trom  its  ulijcct,  and  there  are  difficulties  concerning 
this  also  which  have  to  he  cleared  away.  The  examination  of 
tliese  difficulties  is  reser\'od  for  the  Sopliista  (with  which  (lie 
Politiens  is  cl<»selv  connected)  and  the  Parracnidt^  And  in 
iXmmt  the  ohji-rt  »i  knowledge  ami  the  metiiwd  of  knowledge  arc 
So  closely  comhint^  as  almi>st  to  l^e  iilenttHed. 

We  arc  com|icllcd  from  want  of  sjiacc  to  waive  the  task  i*f 
vhidirating  the  Platonic  authorship  of  these  dialogues  from  liic 
objections  of  Dr.  Whewcll  and  his  fav<*urite  German  interpreU-r 
of  l*Iato,  Socher.*  We  must  fall  Imck  upon  tin-  authority  of 
Aristotle  and  of  Mr.  Grote,  who  lioth  quote  tliesc  dialogues  as 
Plaut's,  and  of  Professor  Tlioinpson  of  Cambridge,  who  has 
defended  their  authenticity  on  sufficient  grounds,- which  might 
perhaps  be  considerably  strengthened. 

Tlie  Sopbista  opens  with  tlie  distinction  Iwtween  a  name  and 
on  'account'  which  enters  into  the  conrhuling  |in88ages  ot  tjic 
* 'niiaeti'tus.'  And  t]»c  ideti  of  f/c/(H(Vi<»(,  as  implying  dittinction, 
is  here  retained,  'J'lie  process  of  logical  division  and  sub- 
division, as  the  first  stage  of  the  dialectical  method,  is  illus- 
trated   with   a   good  deal   of  pleasantry    and   at   great    length* 

*  'Uebcr  Piston's Sdiriften.*  MUii<-hcti,  1830.  Socbvr'i  arpratat  sgslnst  the 
BrnnitKimB  or  the  Soplusia,  I'aliticuii,  bimI  I'nrmrtiitlni  msv  dv  «(tiU>d  in  »  fi^w 
words :  I.  Th*  minute  anil  loojiHlrawii  wibdiTiHOM  of  Ihe  !vphi««  and  Pnlilicos 
sre  ttdioussnHtmiikvaiij'tlitiigiaPlslo.  3.  Thefloeralic  irony  is«Icni  in  ihem! 
X  Heisg  snd  Doibcing  srv  hnr  Donceivrd  of  lo(;icalIf ,  snd  oot.  ss  vlaewhere  io 
PImo,  rrally.  t.  Ikiug  U  with  Plato  the  nnchftn^MUc*  The  aathor  of  tliv 
Sophists  coubiUa  Ifai*,  and  endeaTOora  to  ncouvil'e  Itcst  and  Motion  under  oniii 
tdea.  TlieTeforv  «c  have  herv  an  Anti-Plato,  mid  V\a.Xa  is  raosed  vith  ihe 
'  [Hfndii  of  idcna.'  5.  The  Pentilwion  of  K\il,  impHt'l  in  ilic  inTtb  in  tbe  PoH- 
ticui,  ii  mcuDaifitent  vith  Plato's  irnicml  optimisu.  «.  As  ihr  Suphbla  *«nb«ts 
tha  tiiiichunf;«ihlcn«s,  to  iht;  l^Aniit>nidos  undentuacs  llie  n&Hjr  of  the  Idvs  of 
BeioR. — We  hnTt!  miIt  moni  lo  indicaic  our  dliseoL 

Vol.  112.— A'y.  324.  %  At 


M* 


dso 


T/t6  PhtoHiv  Diaiogum 


i 


At  the  same  time  tho  bunt  after  tW  Sophiit  by 
hugiuif  at  firrt  playlully,  but  presently  in  vnmaA,  H 
to  dt'fuiv  this  creature  V  to  (Uscovit  hiin,  ao»!  gmsp  hJni  finnl 
am)  hind  liim  down  ?  Hl*  ii|)|irsrs  id  a  Prutron  vari«4^ 
slui|H>a.  A  fislinr  nftrr  young  tnrn  i>f  iuitiuic,  a  veodor  of 
wan'S,  a  lurtprtT  of  in tt-ll actual  intercourse ;  theae  and 
surh  ironical  descriptions  am  attemjited.  We  ^o  about  Uie  budi 
nHtin^  snares  iur  bim  at  every  point  IrtHii  whicii  we  caScfa 
Jimpsc  of  bis  whereabouts.  At  Inst,  wben  we  tliink  tu  }m 
Vurnmnded  Kim.  we  fm*\  bim  at  our  ellxiw.  lie  claims 
ini-Lb(xl  of  division  niid  luffiition  wbirb  wc  are  ponuing  { 
nftsciisio  injimff)  as  bis  own  voentinn.  Nav,  mure  tlum  thJM,  he 
riaitns  for  his  own  ibe  end  of  tlto  method,  the  purificmtun  oi 
tbe  Kou!,  b^MTotft-fiuestionlng,  from  the  ignorant  cmieeit  of  know- 
I<-<l{ji'.  'J'bia  startles  us,  and  wc  fear  tJuit  it  is  the  savagu  wolf 
wbo  (bus  puts  on  the  semblance  of  tbe  pentle  dojj.  Kv«n  ihi^ 
bowever,  is  granted  to  him  for  the  present  tbnm^cb  very  wetuinea : 
mid  t]m  ini|uirrr5  *  atop  to  tiike  lirenth,'  and  to  count  up  ihu 
dilterent  funiiK  under  wbirb  the  Sophist  has  upjieared  to  tiiem. 
L4-t  UB,  loOf  )mus4:  aiwl  ask  ourselves  to  what  this  curiotu  pi 
of  mingled  satire  ami  im|uiry  is  temlinjf.  If  we  cfim|jnrr  ^ 
Protapiras,  when-  wvcnil  of  these  professms  of  wisdom  a 
druinatii-nlly  p«»rlrayed,  we  fintl  a  description  of  *tlie  Sopbiii 
wbirb  is  mdv  i*nr  of  the  nniiy  *  false  seents  *  iiidii'ntf^l  ubuV 
vi:i!.,  that  he  is  'a  nierebanl^man  of  intellectual  wures.*  A 
iHip]i«icmU!s  is  put  iHi  his  ^uard  b-st  ibe  Sophist,  lilcr  oUii 
liulesinen,  should  deeeive  us  by  praising  indiscriminatoU  wli 
lie  lias  to  ofTer.  In  that  attempt  at  definition  there  apuetuv  tl 
first  (raee  of  the  idtral  Sophist,  wbo  is  the  subject  of  Jncjui 
here ;  and  who  impcrsonutes,  nn|  simply  tbe  'conceit  of  kiKJwliilj; 
without  tilt'  rcnIitV)*  but  the  apiieaninre  of  pbtli»si>phv  wilbuut 
tbe  n*ality.  And  tlie  real  diftirulty  which  Plato  here  propuM 
for  solution  is,  bow  is  this  deceptive  apjjcarance  possible  i' 
mniiot  be  (|uite  exonenite<l  from  tbe  cliarpe  of  applying  to  b 
rivalfi  an  invidious  tenn  which  others  would  have  equally  npplie 
to  bim,  iind  tlius  condescending;  to  seek  the  sutirages  of  thi 
vulgar.  l)ut  it  must  be  alloweil  that  as  meaning  a  j/rcfcsMt 
of  wisdom,  or  prdetuler  to  wisdom,  the  word  lent  itself  very 
temptingly  to  his  purjioses.'  In  this  dialogue  the  notioa  of  tiic 
pseado-pbilosophcr  is  generalized,  and  it  is  also  extended  so 
tu  embrace  a  laigcr  clau.      For  one   auuwt  belp 

*  jSt»Ay\a»  hu  very  clearly  Ehown  hb  apprceistioa  of  tbe  ton«  of  flgri 
DHSaqNUiying  the  mm  m  llic  Icna  m^t/rrtjt.  In  two  ptuagw  of  fail  *  PromHfas. 
w».  M,  9<«.  wbwe  ii  in  nppliod  tn  tbe  troprmumtioa  of  lh«  Ubctviin^  intrnevt 
IIk  ecrvilv  luUiiitcn  of  bUud  uud  artiitnu^-  p<>wvi'. 


The  Platonic  Dialogues.  337 

that  some  Sociatics  are   included  in  this  sweeping  net,   when 
the  Soplust  is  made  to  plume  himself  on  his  negative  dialectics^ 
and    on    the    power  of    crosSHjuestioning.      A    *  Sophistic '    use 
could  be  made  even  of  these.     The  allusion  to  the  Megarlan  or 
Eristic  school  of  Euciides  is  too  obvious  to  be  ignored.     And 
when  the  hunt  for  the  fisherman  is  made  to  illustrate  the  hunt  - 
for  the  Sophist,  we  may  notice  a  tendency  to   generalize  the 
Socratic  method   in  the  employment  of  a  trivial    example   to 
illustrate,  not  here  the  subject  of  inquiry,  but  the  mode  of  inquiry.* 
To  proceed  with  the  argument.     The  multiform   activity  of 
the  creature  under  the  same  title  makes  us  suspect  some  trick.f 
For  every  art  which  deserves  to  be  called  by  a  single  name  has 
some  one  principle  on  which  all  its  various  performances  depend. 
Now  the  man  professes  to  talk  controversially  on  every  subject, 
and  in  doing  so  gives  the  impression  that  he  knows  it.     It  is 
impossible  that  he  can  know  everything.     How  does  he  make 
men  believe  that  he  does  ?     In  other  words,  how  is  the  appear- 
ance of  philosophy  without  the  reality  possible  ?     The  inquiry 
is  soon  found  to  run  up  into  a  deeper  one,  which  is  the  main 
subject  of  the  dialogue  i    How  can  that  which  is  not,  appear 
to  be?     This  is  obviously  the  complement  to  the  question  raiseti 
in  the  Theaetetus :  How  is  false  opinion  possible  ?     They  arc  the 
objective  and  Tsubjective  aspects  of  the  same  difficulty.     Now 
follows  the  criticism  of  Parmenides,  who  flatly  denied  existence 
to  all  but  Absolute  Being.      We  are  compelled  to  assign  a  rela- 
tive existence  even  to  that  which  is  not  '  absolute  being  ;*  other- 
wise, it  is  humorously  said,'i  the  Sophist  will  appear  nowhere, 
and  escape  us.     From  this  point  Plato  dispenses  with  the  ironical 
mask  which  he  had  assumed,  and  the  inquiry  is  conducted  with 
unmistakeable  earnestness,  though  not  without  many  touches  of 
humour.     The  subject  was  indeed  most  interesting  in  its  bearing 
on  philosophy  and  life.     How  to  conceive  intellectually  of  the 
problem  actually  solved  by  Socrates,  who  believed  in  an  absolute 
ideal  standard  of  goodness  and  truth,  and  yet  could  bring  this 
belief  into  daily  practical  contact  with  the  world  as  it  was — 
seeming  to  annihilate  while  he  really  called  forth  a  new  spirit  ? 
This,  though  in  form  of  expression  peculiar  to  that  time,  and 
only  intelligible   in  f  connexion  with  Greek   thought,  is   essen- 
tially the  last  and  highest  problem  of  the  philosophic  intellect 
as  such:  How  to  mediate  between  Abstraction  and  Reality — 
how  to  give  life  and  enei^y  to  ideal  conceptions  by  the  return  to 
fact?     How  shall  thought  be  not  like  a  straight  line  passing 

*  Compare  the  A^ovr^s  in  the  FolitirtiSi  aod  the  words  (p.  279)  ■waitaMytutrat 
vtrh  Til  rapiittyftJi  fioi  htVinmy, 
t  0af/M,  p.  333, 

2  2  OTeV 


338  Tht  PUOmie  Diakgnut. 

over  (Itirifrs,  but  like  a  cun'c  embmcinK  tlicm  ?     Or  mther,  bow 
sbitll  it  do  iHtth,  rnnipmlienilitig-  unity  uml  variety  in  one? 

'Hji;  ilifliruUics  l«-srttinK  tlic  idea  <»t*  Xot-Bt-ing  are  first  K-t 
fonii.  'l"hni  th(;  One-Bcinjj  cif  i*arinpni<Ic8  is  taken  in  LamLfiuitl 
trcnt^tl  inurh  as  in  tlie  tlia|4igue  which  Ixsin  his  namt-:  tlic  t-on- 
Ceptiuti  of  One  Whole  is  shown  tu  involve  ilivurslly  bi>tli  uf 
attrihulrs  nntl  jHirts  ;  wliilr,  if  the  same  nmreplion  uf  Being  is 
Jeniifl,  tliat-ulii('b-is-no(-buin{^  is  also  mnile  imimtcivable.  The 
Almdute  iluplies  the  Relative,  nnd  the  Ilebtj>e  requires  tlie 
Absolute  lor  its  support,  iya  much  for  the  Kleotic  and  Ionic 
doctrim-s  in  their  antique  exactness.  Tlic  mon*  recent  phase 
of  each  is  Uien  approached,  I'lato  dewrilK-s  the  idealism  and 
materialiKin  of  itmteinpnrnr)-  school!*,  ami  endeavours  to  draw 
tliem  togetlfer  th;it  he  may  luiH't  tJiem  upon  a  common  fnxituid. 
I'he  materialists  are  made  lu  :u:kiuin' ledge  the  existence  of 
wisdom  and  the  other  virtues  (though  not  ol  tbe  mind)  as 
immalerinl ;  ami  are  thus  <lriven  to  conceive  of  lM>ing  as  *  tliat 
which  has  uilive  or  passive  juiwcr,'  Tlie  speaker  then  turns 
to  the  lovei-s  of  idetd  forms  (who  arc  probably  Plato's  fcllow- 
Socmtics  of  Mi-'gant),  and  trim  to  stir  them  from  the  ri^dity 
of  tlicir  niKtract  notion  of  /«•»«*/  as  opposed  u>  tccomitig.  '  Pnwrr* 
IS  just  tlint  which  their  conceptions  lack.  An  endeavour  is 
made  to  hfad  them  to  think  ot  Being  in  ii  more  living  way. 
Knowleilge  jnust  bir  in  some  sense  a  process  Ijotween  subjiTt 
and  object :  and,  it  is  added,  we  raiinot  think  of  the  Hiffhest 
Being  as  devoid  of  movement,  and  wisdom,  and  life,  uml 
mind — as'  if  He  were  some  sacred  image  {'Hht  trpo-i  Aios; 
<u?  aXuiOat^  Kunfciv  Kal  ^wrjv  /tal  "^v^f  Kai  ^potn^tv  *)  pahitav 
•rreurOijiTOfiiSa  r^  iravre^bit  5iti  fii)  Traptivai,  fir^i'  ^iv  avru  f*fj^ 
if>pov€ti/,  rJXAa  fT€fitmv  km  arftov,  vovt'  ovk  c^ov,  tuctvyrov  tOTos 
tivat;).  Neither  motion  m)r  rest,  neither  Ijecoming  nor  being, 
neither  the  relative  nor  the  absolute,  can  alone  be  conceived  of  as 
the  true  object  of  Knowlcflgr  ;  and  yrt  how  arc  these  opixisiu^  to 
bi!  brought  into  harmony  ?  It  is  as  difficult  to  conceive  rightly  nf 
Being  .IS  of  Not-Being,  that  dark  cave  into  which  the  Sophist  tan 
to  earth.  The  jmint  of  thedifReulty  is  this  :  1.  Are  ideas  which 
arc  distinguished  from  each  other  ever  connected  with  each  <Jtiicr  ? 
i.  Arc  all  ideas  tlius  connected? — and  (3.),  if  not  all,  which  an; 
so?  1.  If  there  is  no  connexion  of  ideas,  every  theory  of  i1k* 
Universe  is  alike  undone;  and  those  wlio  assert  this  contnulict 
tliemselvra  in  every  jtropisilion.  The  extreme  aiL-ilytical  tm- 
(Icncy  wouhl   paralyse    thought.*      2.   But    if  there  is  unlimited 

'  Plat,  Sopli.'  p.  2fitf. 

commuoioa 


The  Platonic  Diahffues. 


33tf 


rommuninn  between  .ill,  rlien  Rest  will  bo  ronfused  with  Motion, 
and  Motion  ivitli  Rest.  It  would  be  as  much  as  to  say,  cvcrj'- 
tJiing  can  hi>  prcdifalcd  of  evcrythlnj;^.  *  A  science  tliun  is 
oeeilnd  to  determine  which  of  these  clciiicnU  will  unite — the 
scienfre  of  the  contradistinction  and  connexiou  of  ideas  or  kinds 
of  being:  Dialectic,  the  science  of  tlie  true  freeman.  We  have 
found  a  trace  of  the  Philosopher  Ijefore  cntcbing  tlie  Sonhisu 
Plato  then  proceeds  to  determine  the  relations,  not  of  all  the 
ideas,  but  of  the  chief  ones — Bcini^.  Rest,  nud  Motion.  Two  m<irc 
emerge  as  we  examine  these,  the  ideas  of  Sameness  or  Identity  and 
DifTerenre,  wliieh  run  tlinmph  them  all — each  being  the  same 
with  itself,  hut  different  from  the  other  twa  As  we  pursue  tliis 
train  of  thought,  we  fmd  that  each  of  the  five  ideas  that  have 
l>een  mentioned  both  w  and  t.v  mtf ;  anil,  in  |>anicul»r,  tliat  even 
t!»e  idea  of  being  which  is  in  the  most  absolute  sense,  in  not 
nintion — I.  e.  is  snmething  different  from  it ;  while,  on  tlie  other 
hand,  m<}tiim,  which  is  imt — for  it  is  different  from  lieing — yet 
i.i  by  ])artaking  of  the  idea  of  Iwing.  Urns,  wc  arc  unexpectedly 
cnnbled  to  vindicate  the  existence  of  thai  which  is  not — not  as 
the  men?  iirgat  ion  of  existence,  but  as  'something  diffen-nt '  from 
the  idea  of  Absolute  Being;  ami  even  this  idea  is  limited  ami 
partakes  of  iHiI-lii'ing,  in  so  far  as  it  is  distitiguislietl  fnim  other 
Ideas.  \  et  after  all  this  hihuur,  »  fui  tlicr  proof  is  necessary 
Ijefore  we  can  '  catch  the  Sophist.'  We  must  prove  that  thought 
and  language  can  partake  of  this  element  of  not-being,  which  is 
accordingly  ilone ;  and  tlie  creatur*'  is  unearthed  ami  taken. 

'I'hr  reasoning,  of  whieb  the  atiore  is  an  im|»crfeut  .sketch, 
aj)pears  to  indicate  a  critical  point  in  ihc  development  of  Plato's 
jnind.  It  is  here  tlwt  he  breaks  with  the  half-Kleatic,  half- 
ScMTatic  philosophy  of  KucUdes,  and  proclaims  his  tlissatisfac- 
tiou  with  tlic  menrly  analvtical  methods  of  knowledge.  This 
scents  t4>  be  die  acme  of  the  tmirsitton  from  the  sattrtcn)  and 
netjatlve  towards  smnetbing  of  a  constructive  method — from 
seijarale  generalizations  towards  a  harmony  of  opposing  thoughts 
— from  a  paratloxical  attitu<!e  towards  a  position  at  once  higher 
and  more  coniprchcnsivc.  We  liavc  not  space  to  examine  bow 
this  is  followetl  up  in  the  Poliiicus,  and  how  a  cognate  problem 
IK  worked  out  in  the  Parmenides.  It  is  worth  mentioning,  how- 
over,  tliat  in  tlie  former  dialogue,  in  which  there  occurs  the 
same  Pythagoi'ean  association  of  cosmical  with  political  notions 
as  ill  tbe  'I'imn^us.  s«>me  further  steps  asv  matin  in  the  evolution 
of  a  (lialeclicid    met  hoi  I ;  while   in    the  latter  s<*veral  difticulli*'* 


•  ComwiTF  '  AristoUc,  Met.'  r.  4. 


ont 


840 


Thti  Fhtonir  Dialcpuea. 


mn  fttuted  at  the  ootset  ns  to  the  relation  of  tbc  ideal  to  tlie 
actual  world. 

In  tlic  Pbilchus  the  ronct^ption  of  Dialectic  (as  tlie  srieace 
of  thr  Oiip  and  tho  ArnnT)  is  found  in  its  full  mstarit/, 
wbilc  that  of  Absolute  IlL-iiif;  has  ^>wn  into  thn  more  concrete 
idea  of  ilio  H^hcst  G<ji>d.  The  Pythagorean  nntjtliesis  of 
Finitf  iind  Infinite  is  also  substituted  for  the  simpler  one  be- 
tween Rest  and  Motion.  At  the  samo  time  I'lato's  Psrehologv 
hrmmes  more  di'Slinrt  Ol'  nil  the  Dialogues,  this — whirh  n«>- 
demtes  l>ptween  the  Megarian  and  Cjircnaic  ediieal  ctmreptioiu, 
betwren  wisilnm  and  pleasure  as  t}ie  chief  g^ootl,  and  points  to 
the  Dii'ine  Life  as  die  jtuamtre  of  nil  beneath  it — is  perhaps 
nietaphvsically  the  roost  perfect.  It  is  the  last  and  ^catest  of 
the  dialectical,  and  the  first  of  the  repularly  constructive,  dis* 
l<))(ucs :  it  brings  ihf  scientific  into  closer  harmony  with  the 
relig:inus  and  speculative  reason.  And  white  Pinto's  t>wn  thnuffht 
is  matured  and  dnminnnt,  all  Uie  elements  of  preTious  and  riNi- 
temporary  philosophy  have  a  plaee  assigned  tltero.  We  couUl 
wish  that  Dr.  Whewell  had  piven  a  more  complete  account  nf 
the  I'hilebng  to  the  Llni^liih  n-ader.* 

Ill,  The  'Republic'  is  acknwvledycd  to  be  Plato's  mosler 
work.  All  tlist  precede  are  Init  as  sketches  preparatory  to  the 
execution  of  this  prent  painting;  inferior  members  of  the  Epic 
cycle,  destined  tr>  be  absorbed  in  this.  Plato's  powers  are  pre- 
sent  titerc  in  their  maturitv  ;  for  It  somethinf;  of  the  dialectical 
keenix^ss  is  coftcned,  thu  is  more  than  compensated  hy  an 
increased  comprchensireness  of  view;  and  the  '' Timvuii/  if  in 
wnne  way*  mnre  wonderful,  is  hardly  so  perfect.  The  changv 
whirh  lirgnn  at  the  height  of  metaphysical  sjieculation  haa  now 
jKissed  orer  tlie  whole  field  of  philosophical  vision.  Hitherto 
we  have  been  lahorinusly  ascendinf*  towards  the  ideas;  we  are 
now  endeavourinp  by  their  still  distant  lipbl  to  aee  t]ie  otrjects 
of  whirh  the  shadows  surround  us  in  oor  common  life;  to 
conceive  nf  that  coiirrete  ideal  form,  Ix>th  of  the  individual  and 
of  society,  apart  fn>m  which  rirtue  in  the  abstract  is  to  as  only 
a  name. 

Tlio  imaginary  TOConstructiiM  of  the  State  is  made  the  symbol 
of  whM  (he  indiridtial  ought  to  be :  and  the  division  of  it  into 
_  the  deliberative,  executive,  and  working  classes  corresponds  la 
Plnlo's  trijnirlite  diviftinn  of  the  siml  into  the  faculties  of  RcwMrtl, 
Will  or  Anper,  iind  Desire,  Little  is  said  of  the  k>weBt  prin- 
ciple, citlicT  in  the  in<lividual   or  the  commonity,  eacept  geiMw 


i 


•  See  thp  tnuulation  nf  tlio  '  PhilebaH,'  bj-  E.  Port*,  Esq.,  ahetdy  neBtioned. 
Abo  ibnt  b;  Sydeatiua  in  ilie  Urjti  Kngilui  utliUoa  of  ruio. 

rallj 


I 


A 


TIte  Platonie  Dialofpta. 


341 


rally  that  it  roast  Icnm  to  do  its  oirn  business  and  to  obey  • 
oltboush  we  gather  sfjmethin;;  incidentally  conwrning  h  in  the 
Acconnt  of  ths  educaliun  of  the  secowl,  nr  (^rnutiTr  rinss,*  awl 
in  the  description  of  tlie  vicious  atates.f  Tlie  disnissiiwi  rbieflj 
tarns  on  the  crluration  of  the  tvro  higher  priuripli-s  and  the 
subservience  due  from  the  lower  of  these  to  the  lu-rher. 

Wc  ffinnot  but  tliiiik  that  the  arrnnji^'mcDt  of  the  *  Repuhlir  ' 
which  Dr.  VVhcwel)  luis  adopted,  trndii  cimsiderably  to  obscure 
this  its  general  scope.  For  instuuce,  if  there  j»  one  point  on 
which  the  whole  iabric  may  Iw  said  to  rest,  it  is  the  pni|)fi8al 
that  philosophers  stiould  he  kings;  the  discussion  of  wliirh  is 
immediately  followed  up  witli  an  account  of  the  ixlueation  of  the 
royal  philosopher,  who  is  to  Ijc  the  'eye*  of  the  State.  Vet 
Dr.  Whewell  Ireals  each  of  lhf?sc  nrgiimrnts  as  if  it  were  a 
separate  digression,  thus:  *  Digression  !II.  Of  Philow>pher3  as 
Politicians;  Digression  IV.  Of  the  Degrncs  of  Hutnaii  Know- 
ledge.* And  it  may  be  further  ohieetn<l  to  this  lost  title,  tliai 
no  one  would  suppose  from  it  that  Digression  IV.  born  any 
relation  to  Digression  !.  '  Of  Etlncation  in  the  Ideal  I'olity.' 
Wherwis  in  Pinto's  mind  these  were  evidently  contrasted,  as  the 
etiueitlion  of  tlie  reason  through  philosujihy  and  the  education  of 
the  di8|)o«itioiis  arwl  tastes  by  hahit;  the  latter  of  which  was  a 
iiefrrsfiary  j)rcparat)ve  to  the  former,  though  it  was  only  to  be 
ac(|niesred  in  finally  in  the  case  of  those  who  were  found  in- 
capable of  the  higher  training.^  Several  passages  of  the  '  Poli- 
ticus '  (where  even  the  image  of  the  stecrsinnn  is  nnticipate^t  §) 
prove  clearly  that  the  asjtiration  towards  a  kingdom  uf  philosophy 
was  by  uo  means  an  afterthought,  but  that  this  was  the  con- 
summation ou  which  tlie  wholo  cDergy  of  Plato's  uund  was 
centered. 

It  \A  fair  to  add,  however,  that  while  the  effect  of  the  whole 
work  is  thus  gratuitously  injurctl,  the  treatment  of  the  si^vcrai 
|tarls  is  often  exceedingly  clear  and  spirited,  and  many  nf  i1m» 
remarks  arc  valuable,  We  may  fall  attention  lu  tlu!  fidlowing 
jHuwage,  on  Plato's  conception  of  a  higher  astrOunmy.  || 

'  ThTu  the  Platonic  notion  of  an  Astronociy  which  doale  ^vith  doe- 
triuoit  of  a  moro  exact  and  dblonninatc  kind  than  the  obvious  rclatiituH 
of  pfaeDomaDA,  may  lio  ft>uiiU  U*  tend  cithi-r  to  error  or  to  tmUi.  Sndi 
wpRattoun  point  equally  to  the  fivo  regular  solids  which  Kepler  Jma*  • 
Ipiiod  a«  (Ictcmiiiung  the  planetary  orbitg,  and  to  the  laws  uf  Ki^plor, 
m  which  Nowton  dotct:tcd  the  cffud  uf  autvcrsal  gravitatiou.  I'ho 
Rftlitiea  which  Plata  looked  for,  oa  B<Hnething  inoompar&bly  tnoro  real 


t  E.ij.  p.  5;i.  iV>,  %  See  Ke|u  pp.  4M,  619. 

{  p.  2W.    Cf,  H«^  p,  4S8.  I  Vo).  lil..  pp.  S«l.  SW. 


Uun 


* 


thaii  tlio  visiblo  lumiiuu-toi!,  are  found,  when  vre  find  goomelric&I  Gj^aros, 
epioyoleR  and  twceutnc^i  Iaws  uf  luntiuii  and  luwu  of  forco,  wUicli  ex* 
pUin  the  appearuicou.  Ilia  roalitiea  uv  tboories  wliich  ac-iwanL  for 
tlitk  pbeuomciio,  iilcmn  which  cotmoct  tHe  facta.  But  in  Tlato  n;:;ht  in. 
bfdding  tiliat  hqcIi  rualilii^K  im  LUuhu  uru  more  r«(i/  tiuu  tlie  pLouonifiim, 
and  constituto  an  Mtrouomy  of  a  liiglier  kind  Uum  tluit  uf  incm 
apiienrancoB  •?  Ti>  tliis  we  sUftll,  of  course,  reply  tliat  theories  and 
fiu;ts  hiivo  iMch  tlioir  roftlity,  lut  tliat  those  arc  realities  of  different 
IdixU.  Kcplor'a  lam  aro  as  real  as  day  and  night:  the  force  of 
gravity  t«'Tidin^'  to  the  Ran  ifl  aa  real  a»  tho  son ;  but  not  more  so. 
Tnic  th(.'t]rii-»(  mid  fiwt^  oro  oquaUy  real,  for  true  tlieorios  aro  &cta^ 
and  facta  ore  fiuiiiliar  theories.  Astronomy  i»,  as  Plato  says,  a  aeries 
of  )>ndilriim  MUf^f*oiit«d  tiy  viBiblo  things ;  and  the  thoi^^ts  in  onr 
own  iiiinds,  f^'hich  bring  tho  Holutions  nf  theeo  )>roh1emK,  have  a 
reality  iu  the  things  wliicb  suggust  tlium. 

'  But  if  wo  tiy,  OS  riato  does,  to  iiepanite  and  oppoeo  to  each  other 
tbo  iLstronnniy  nf  appoarancos  and  tho  iiRtrnnnniy  of  thoorioR,  wo 
att4.'mpt  that  whiuh  in  impoaaible.  Thoro  uru  iiu  phenomcua  which  do 
not  uxhibit  Kumo  law ;  no  law  con  bo  coiiccivod  without  (>Lenou)Oi». 
Tb<.'  lioftVpnH  offnr  n  soricK  of  pici]ih;nw ;  Itiit  h<iwoT(!r  many  of  thorn 
probhrtnx  wo  W)Ivu,  there  reninin  utill  ininuiiomblc  of  them  nusulrt^l, 
nod  theoo  nnRolTott  problems  have  solntions,  nnd  ore  not  different  in 
kind  from  thci«e  of  wliicli  thu  ustant  Kulatioii  ih  iDOKt  uouiploto.' 

Our  space  forbids  us  to  enlarge  further  on  whnt  some  one 
has  onllrti  '  the  (frrntcst  uninspired   writing.*     One  point,  how- 
over,  uinv  Im"   notirwl    ns   itiutitnitivt;  nf  the  growth  of  Plntti's 
mind.     Those  lower  forms  of  human  excelloiu'^-,  tlic  rxisteiin> 
of  which    apart    from    kmiwl«lg:e   appeared    so    |»erpIpxinK    to 
Socrates  in  tho   *  Protagoras,*  are  here   admitte<l,    through    ihe^^ 
recognition    of   dificrent    elements    in    the   constitution  of  our^^ 
rommon    imttin-;  wliicli  though   inseparably  united  and   india-^^ 
liensiiMir  to  e.irlt  other's  perfcrtinn,  are  not  identiral.     The  union 
of  the  reasoinng  :ui(l   a<:t.iv(*  pnntnplps  in  the  state,  makes  righ 
netion  possible  for  indiviihuls  who  are  not  porfcrtly  possejiscdj 
iif  reawm.* 

IV.  Tlie  only  (lialogueg  which  arc  certainly  later  than  the, 
*Il«t|>ublir' are  the  '  Timjcus,' the  fragment  calletl  the 'Crilias,' 
and  iho  'Laws.'  Of  these  the  'Tima-us'  and  *CrItias*  are  inti- 
mately connecte«l,  tJic  arctpunt  of  the  constitution  of  nntuir 
forming  ilu-  introduction  to  that  of  the  activities  of  an  ideal 
society,  Tlie  '  Laws'  arc  a  popular  treatise,  in  which  the  author, 
instead  of  remodelling  the  state,  proposes  certain  amendments  of 
existing  iiujti  tut  ions.  Kd.  Zi-Uer,  who  vimlir.-itcs  the  genuineness 
of  tlie  '  Laws'  OS  a  pi>st!tuinrnis  work  of  l'hilo*.>i,  imagines  him  tu 


*  In  Ariilollr's  language  they  may  be  saul  to  partake  uf  it,  bat  wt  to  Itavu  it  ii 

liav) 


77«  Platonic  Dialoffws. 


343 


hare  written  it  when  ilisApnnintinG;  experience  hail  taught  bim 
to  despair  of  seeing  his  Kopubllc  realixed.  This  ma_v  be  so, 
but  may  wc  not  als*>  rcrot^nise  in  iliis  labour  of  his  oM  age  a 
wrnkmrd  manifcstatiun  of  tlic  same  impulse  which  was  to  have 
pnKhirril  the  'Critias'? 

It  is  i-lear,  at  all  events,  that  Plato  at  difTerent  times  propose*! 
to  himself  two  problems,  which  he  lins  nowhere  completely 
worked  out.  1.  The  definition  of  the  philosopher,  which  is 
'promi«e<l  togrther  with  those  of  the  Sophist  and  statesman, 
thoug;}!  siimc  hrsltatinn  on  Oils  piiint  is  nftprwariU  esprrsset) ;  * 
aihI  '2.  The  di-tailcd  amtunt  iif  t]ie  workings  nf  thp  idrni  state.f 
Plato's '  ininil.  thereiore,  was  still  Imtkinfj  furwanls  whi-u  !ti: 
activity  was  broken.  Neitlier  his  metaphysical  nor;  his  moral 
speculations  had  attained  their  final  form.  We  have  his  physical 
tlie«>rv,  however,  pmliahlv  complete. 

The  diflicuUies  of  the  'Tiiiia'us'  are  proverbial.  Tliry  are 
really  far  p-n-ater  than  Oiosr  of  the  '  Parmeiiides,'  which  rcfjuire 
for  tbeir  sulutiuji,  when  Plato's  position  is  once  clearly  known, 
only  a  continued  effort  of  very  close  attention.  But  in  ihr 
^Tima'ns'  there  is  a  blending  of  dialectical  philosophy  wltli  a 
half-mytludogical,  half-seicntific  theory'  of  natun-,  which  it  is  a 
liard  matter  to  unravel.  '  Dr.  Whewell  has  suceeeiled  in  giving-  a 
clear  and  popular  ai.'Count  of  a  dialo[rue  fmiii  thv  elutridation  of 
which  many  scholars  would  shrink.  This  is,  periiaps,  tlie  happiest 
of  his  ]>erforniances  in  these  volumes.  The  intrcKluction,  which 
want  of  spec  nloiic  prevents  us  fcora  quoting-,  is  very  inatroctive, 
and  adinirablv  clear. 

Wv  ate  jjind  to  be  able  tlius  to  *  praise  in  departing'  from  Dr. 
VVhewelTs  iMKik.  We  have  no  wish  to  depreciate  a  work  which 
will  be  most  valuable  in  ea:citing.  and,  in  a  measure,  satisfying, 
the  curiosity  of  tlie  Knglish  public  on  the  tpicstions,  What  di<l 
Plato  sjiy?  and,  What  did  Iw  mi-anV — a  work  from  which  the 
most  advanced  Platonic  scliolar  may  lenrn  something.  Only  it 
is  suri'ly  matter  for  regret  that  an  undertiking  of  so  much 
pnnnise  sliould  have  been  allowed  to  suffer  in  its  execution 
through  occasional  mistakes  of  scholarship,  through  a  pie<e- 
meal  mode  of  treatment  which  was  unnecessary,  and  through  an 
apparent  unwillingness  to  trace  the  subtle  gradations  of  the 
development  of  a  most  subtle  and  evirr-growing  mind. 

•  •9opb.*p..2l7.     S^nrrl^t  w^AiTtnir,  fikUaixx'.     ih.  f. 'iM.     Thp  fiiv  ^iXi- 
rr  mkvTtmhT  awifryal'MtToi  VM  Ko)  flk*-  fiA^tro^r. 


A  fe 


n 


544 


The  Platonic  Dialoffna. 


A  few  word*  may  be  fulded  in  roodaaion  on  modem  Platnnism, 
wllich  has  nt  difTerent  periiids  l»pcome  the  ally  nf  tileratDn*  nnd 
artf  of  romantic  fricndshius,  of '  immutable '  systems  of  molality, 
of  Idealixin^  Divinity,  of  revolutionary  schemet  of  goveinmoEit, 
and  of  n.n  anti-snrial  communism.  Iji  eachcaacouly  a  {x%giaent 
of  Plato's  real  meaninj;  has  been  retained,  liitherhis  poetic  sym- 
bolism has  I)rrn  trcatcU  ns  if  it  were  the  substance  ot  his  ihougbl, 
or  that  whieh  lie  descriett  as  tlic  distant  goal  of  liis  forward 
endeavour  has  been  isolatnl,  and  made  the  starting-point  ot  % 
mystieal  and  abstrart  Ir^ic ;  or  liis  resolution  of  the  anpanM 
fixity  of  the  objects  of  sense  has  been  turned  to  the  denial  of  ihe 
reiililv  of  materia]  substances  ;  or  a  single  feature  of  lus  imagioftiy 
slate  has  been  made  the  basis  of  an  octunl  attempt  to  rrconstrud 
society.  Uy  such  means  there  is  obtained  only  a  partial  ami  dis- 
tortwi  Image  of  the  Socratic  inspiration  and  tlie  PJatonic  faith : 
whtcli  must  be  undersbtml  in  themselves  and  as  a  whole,  in  order 
to  become  really  fruitful.  Vet  even  when  not  fully  comprehended, 
tlie  influence  of  these  writings  has  been  powerful.  In  the  Afteenth 
century,  when  the  Florentine  Academv  under  Marsiglio  Ficino 
was  esteemed  the  brightest  point  in  die  galaxy  of  intollccttial 
li^ht,  (lie  'New  Philosophy,  tliough  tinf^ed  with  Neo-plalonlc 
fancies,  was  a  (^rmi  help  to  the  world  in  tlirowing:  ufT  the 
trammels  of  Scholnstirism  ami  Superstition,  and,  itself  eottsti- 
tuling  It  m^w  bog-inning  in  spfTulation,  must  have  contributed 
lK>t  a  little  towitrds  the  free  exercise  of  ihoupht.  The  Medici, 
perhaps,  hailed  it  as  an  inspiration  congenial  to  the  spirit  of 
Italian  poetry  and  art,  and  as  providing  fresh  aliment  for  a 
waning  faith.  But  there  is  little  dotiht  tltat  the  iutellcrtual  force 
there  gathered,  and  tlie  spirit  nf  freedom  instilled  by  tKe  words 
of  one  who  faa4l  oj>|K>8ed  the  strength  of  mind  to  durainanl 
beliefs,  cannot  hare  been  lost  tu  other  countries  and  succeeding 
gffnerations. 

Tlie  revival  of  Platonic  studies  has  also  been  a  marknl 
feature  of  our  own  age  ;  and  at  last  it  is  not  merely  Plato's 
tloctrine  of  Ideas,  or  his  proof  of  immortality,  that  we  nrc 
studying,  but  Plato  himsi^lf.  It  is  true  that  these  studies 
hare  grown  up  under  the  shadow  of  modern  philoiiophv.  and 
tlic  interpretation  of  Pl.ito  and  the  estimate  formcHl  of  fats 
contemporaries  havo  been  coloured  by  the  different  phosi-'S  of 
tmnsrendcntalism  and  eclecticiam,  Tlie  light  which  ideal 
thinkers  n'flect  on  Uielr  great  prototv]>r  has  liccn  mistaken  for 
liis  own.  llut  there  have  not  been  wanting  rrtties  who  have 
the  effort  t<(  si'c  Platn  simply  in  himself,  and 
Greek  thought  and  to   his   own  age.      llie 


4 


successfully  inmle 
in  bis  relation   to 


4 


4 


amia 


Ths  Phtonic  Dialo^mi, 


a45 


Ami»blp  Van  Hciisdc  *  wns  pmbfibly  one  of  th<*  first  wlio 
(lid  so.  Even  Mr.  Grotc  cun  lisnil)-  lx>  dissatisfied  with  the 
tocRtmpDt  which  the  'Soj^sts'  receivnl  from  liim.  Indi- 
cations are  already  visible  Uiat  the  Jnlcn^st  fidt  in  dti*  subject 
ammig«t  our  uwn  countrymen  is  no  longer  confiiiod  to  a  few.  It 
is,  dicrcforc,  natural  to  ask  wb.it  may  be  expected  to  bi*  ilie 
effect  of  an  increase  of  Pinto's  inHucncc  on  education  and  litera- 
tare  at  the  present  day.  The  must  obvious  elements  of  tliis 
intluenec  are  the  scattered  thau<^ht9,  '  modernisms '  as  tbey  bare 
been  sometimes  called,  wlueh  are  c(|ually  intelligible  to  every 
time,  aiid  often  .-ulmitof  an  immediati'  appltc-ition  to  our  own  <:ir~ 
4mmsttacc£.  'I'hc  description  of  the  scepticism  resultinj*  fmm 
the  rush  and  inconsidcr.ite  nse  of  dialectic,  as  the  state  of  one 
who  hns  liceii  lirou.t^lit  up  ns  a  supposititious  cliild,  and  discovers 
that  those  whom  he  ha*  enlh-d  Ins  |iarcnts  are  rwrt  rrjitly  s«>, 
before  he  has  found  tlioae  who  are;t  tlie  re|M'-ati'd  warning  tlial 
controversy,  as  such,  leads  only  to  die  hatred  of  inquiry,  and 
desjiair  of  tmih  ;  %  the  humorous  description  of  this  wonl-fcncing, 
reminding  one  of  Squire  Kalpho's  account  of  I<^ic, — 

*  TluN  pagan  heathenish  invcntjcm 
Is  good  for  nothing  but  contcction,'  S 

the  satire  directed  agiunst  a  mctho<l  which  substitates  tJie  impu- 
tation of  inconsistency  in  opponents  iur  a  real  cxaminatiim  of 
|}ic  matter  in  band  ;  {]  the  observation  that  in  the  nature  of  tbin;^ 
tltc  ideal  must  ever  be  mure  perfect  than  tin-  actiialjlf  the 
analysts  of  the  ridiculous  :** — the&(>,  and  nunibirrless  siniihir  hints, 
ratmrit  but  suB:^;est  useful  thoughts.  The  person  of  S<m  rates  is 
another  unfailing  source  of  iiitcreat ;  although  we  have  not  in 
Plato  the  literal  faithfulness  of  BoswcH-ApoUodorus,  who,  for 
tfarVR  years  at  Icaiit,  took  daily  note  of  evervtliing  which 
Snerates  said  and  did.ft  Kveu  the  superfieiul  study  of  Plat}>  is 
of  real  value,  ''llie  iuiagc  of  our  highest  natural  powers  in  tlieir 
freshest  vigour,'  *  the  unattainable  grace  of  tho  prirno  of  man- 
hood,' is  to  be  seen  there  as  it  i*  not  elsewhere,  even  in  classic 
literature.  The  mind  which  has  only  slightly  tasted  of  them 
oust  be  raised  and  purified  by  great  thoughts  and  beautiial 
Imaginatitms,  expresseil  in  the  most  [lerfect  laiigtiagc, 

]Iut  the  essr-ntial  interest  of  Plato  lies  in  this,  that  in  his 
works  we  have  clearly  presented  to  ns  tlai  first  cumjilcle  niKl 
kamiDnioos  impress  of  philosophy  npon  the  human  mind,     llic 


•  '  Iniiis  IlstODko.*    hrjAtn,  iS4S. 
I  •  VhxA.:  p.  9i>.    *  ThwDt..'  p.  1(18. 
\[  '  lt<-|>.,*  454.     ■  ThoDt.,'  p.  164. 
•*  •  Phikb.;  p.  48. 


t  '  Rpp.,'  p.  MB. 
S  'TluM,'  p.  I.W.     ■  Urtiiiltrtts.' 
T  '  Iltp.;  p.  473. 
1*  'Sytnp./  p.  17'i. 


true 


346 


7%c  PhtmicDiahymt. 


I 


tme  elemenu  of  scientiiic  metLod  are  tfaeie — hoc  scpniatc,  bat 
bleaded ;  ideal  anticipation  followed  br  IndortiTc  VFrification ; 
aaaiofj  and  brpotlicw  pointin;::  the  m*y  to  truth,  bat  not  sUrk- 
cnioK   ibe   wemnh  for  it.     The   field   of  observation   has   been 
wotulcrfully  enlarged  since  Platu'*  tiioe  ;  but  thoo^b  tlw?  cootmlaf 
(»r  exjiL-rience  aie  tlifit-it-nt,  the  spirit  in  h  hirh  all  inquirr  should 
be  conducted  i«  the  same.      There  is  a  lesson  which  the  world 
has  not  eshanited   Tct,  in  his  tmion,    or   ratbrr    identifusktlna 
of   relii^ton   with   science ;  in    the  pursuit  of  knowledge   l»»r   its 
nirn  sake    considered   as    a    reli^ous   ilutv ;   and    in    the    belief 
rppeatedlj  expressed    and    implied    thruugfauat    in  the   absulDle 
fTiKMlness  of  the  Sopreme  Beii^,  the  iilea  of  W'hojn  phUtsophT 
approarheSf  bat  cannot  wboUj  grasp.      I'lato  never  lasts  sight  of 
the  admission  that ''  there  are  mure  things  in  heaven  and  earth 
than  are  dreamt  of  in  liis  philosophy ; '  but  for  this  y^  nsuua  he 
is  ever  striving  to  test   thf^  realitr  of  his  dream.     His   thoaghta 
air  never  Inst  in  mjstictsnL,  nor  will  ho  suffer  them  to  be  bouim  ^_ 
within  the  limits  of  what  is  known  positively,  as  by  a  sun  of  ^M 
Bite.     The  difficnltr  which  haunted  him,  that  of  liiidgiii^  over  ^^ 
the  chasm  between  idea  ami   fart,  is  panllri  to  many  djfiictilties 
in  our  unn  >i*x.      Atal  if  the  human   min<l,  after  passing  forth 
out   of  the  sphere  prescril»d  bv  .Socrates — after  *  tneasuritig  the 
earth   and  spanning   tlie  hmren'  (Plat.  ^TlirarC*  pL  173),  and 
briib^ing  all  things  in   the  sensible  nntverse  within  the  reach  of 
human  knowledge  and  power — ^bas  now  come  fall  circle,  and  is 
again  seeking  to  read  in  the  *  large  letters,'  not  a(  an  itnaginaiy 
(jfwik  communitT,   but  of  human  histnrv,  the    laws  which  the 
Creator  has  impcvssiil  on  his  rn-Atanr  man  ;   if  imluctive  sciefx^, 
afiet  tnrersing  the  6i-ld  of  Nature,  i^  turning  inwards,  anl  falters 
in  the  application  to  a  new  subject-matter  of  the  '  cToss-questMO- 
ing '  metbixl  which  has  so  br  been  employed  on  things  eixtrmal 
b*  the  mini),    is  it   nnrewsaoablc  to  hupe  that  the  truly   iodue" 
tjre  uethud  ol'  Platu,  whoce  doepest  intuititius  are  ever  accom* 
panietl  wiUi  die   apjiral  to  canactousoess   and   experience,  may 
aSbcd  a  pretiminarv  trainii^  which  even  the  gtrmlest  minds  cam 
hardly  di^icnse  with  in  endeavooriag  to  place  the  scieoce  o( 
human  nature  on  a  stuv  fooudaiion  ?     What  if  it  should  be  foaod 
that  I^ato'a  i^iilaao{^y  in   its  difierent  aspects  is  a  true  epstnmc 
of  the  mental  prograa  of  the  race  ;  that  as  his  ideal  thfttry  is  n 
sort  of  prophecy  which  his  dialectical  eoei^y  ts  ever  striTing  bi 
foliil,  M>  £uth  is  the  mystic  anticipatioD  of  maoo.  and  muoo  hot 
the  gradual  Tcrifiraij<m  of  faith  ;  while,  as  Jeremy  Tavlor 
■  Faidi  roost  rvrr  take  someihiog  into  her  heart  which 
caoaot  take  into  her  ejaV 

The  fTirirtian  is  indeed  the  recipient  of  a  fiu-  deeper 


I 


t 


771*  Platonic  Dialogue*. 


347 


limn  Plato  knew,  lliprc  was  a  vt^il  upcm  tlii'  heurt  of  the 
beaUtc'41  world  which  has  l«!cn  rt*inov«I.  On  the  oilier  hami, 
«tornAl  farts  exprci«o  a  mort;  |Miwrrful  iniluence  now  tliat  tljev 
arc  Ix-'ttcr  known.  That  liillucncc  niav  be  partly  coirective  and 
partly  ItliiulJii^.  lint  neither  the  prii-eless  possession  of  a  holier 
faith,  nor  the  exlfudcil  ran^e  of  <mr  nluervaiion,  ean  make  less 
interc&tint;  or  loss  instructive  ttj  us  tlie  speclarle  of  human  intel- 
ligence n>it»cinus]y  k"'W'02  into  jwrfect  bi*autv.  The  pure  Io*-e 
«r  truth  ('  tlian  which  nothing  is  more  delightful  to  iiivestisate, 
or  more  beautiful  to  contemplate,  when  found'*),  which  Plato 
made  the  rule  of  his  life,  may  l»e  an  example  to  us  in  times  of 
iiLtellectual  p^Tplexity.  His  belief  in  God  and  iinniorLdity  mav 
even  now  bi-  a  sup|iort  to  faith.  The  delii;ht  of  reading  him  is 
that  of  diinking  from  a  living  fountain.  He  has  objected  to  all 
written  composition  tlmt  It  must  fall  dead,  in  comparison  of  that 
oral  teaching  wliich  is  adapted  t<i  create  new  th<JOghts  in  tlic 
spirit  of  <me  loved  and  known.  He  seems  to  have  bueu  up- 
pn^ssed,  in  WTiting,  with  something  of  Goethe's  fwling — 

'  Moiu  Liod  ertoDt  dor  mibekauutcn  Mosgo ;' 
but  he  has  provided  lliat  his  own  works  should  bc-He  his  fore- 
boding,  and  be  the  exception  to  prove  his  rule.  So  long  as  dirre 
lA  a  mind  devotat  to  classical  studies,  in  whiclt  the  faculti4'!t  of 
reflection  and  imagination  are  united  in  any  <U'gree  of  iHjwtT,  so 
long  his  written  converse  will  retain  its  creative  forc<*,  generating 
and  preserving,  in  the  soul  of  a  friend,  thoughts  kindrMl  to  his 
own. 


Art.  UL — 1.  The  Jottmnl  and  Corr«fpond(rnce  of  WiUiani  Lord 
AHckland.  By  tiie  Right  Hon.  and  Right  Kcv.  the  Bishop  of 
Il.ith  and  Wefls.      V.)Is.  HI.  and  IV.      1802. 

2.  The  Prirattf  rHarij  vf  liichard  Duke  of  Buckinyhiim  and 
Ckamlos.     lu  3  Vols.    *1S62. 

THK  class  of  memoirs  to  whiih  our  attention  will  rhieily  l>e 
directed  in  this  article  diflers  very  widely  from  those  which 
are  known  as  illustrating  the  manners  rather  than  the  politics 
of  French  or  German  f'fiurts.  iniis  difference  is  but  the  reHee- 
tiun  of  another:  of  that  ivhieh  exists  between  two  tiuite  distinct 
modes  of  government ;  betwoen  |Mirliameiit:iry  govn-nment  iukI 
closet  govemmeut ;  between  the  mace  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons and  the  fan  of  the  Duchess  de  Langueville.  In  French 
memoirs,  p«.>litics  imd  scandal,  the  jokes  of  the  salons  and  the 
comisels  of  the  cabinet,  are  inextricably  mixed  up  togeth(.-r,  and 


Scotoa  KiigcDSt 


reveal 


348 


Modem  PoUticaf  Mcrnoin. 


rev(>nt  n  political  system  intvliich  thn  authority  exerciwd  under 
free  institutiuns  by  mon  had  bcea  tnubtlerrod  to  tbo  ftrt,  die  tact, 
and  tbcrTacconiplUltinetits  of  the  feinulc  sex.  If  Ffanco  ww  ■ 
flrsiKitism  tdn[)err(l  Uy  rpljrrams,  it  wns  tlir  VtOf  of  thcr  aalow 
whirli  brought  thiis*^  t'piffTains  to  pnrfprtiim;  aixl  tlir  WLloOi 
thus  constituLril  ii  surt  ot'  soclnl  parliaiiicnt,  wliirii,  tbuugh  unaiiU 
to  Rtop  tliP  supplier  or  witlihohl  tlii^  Mutiny  Act,  still  ptHaKiam) 
a  formidable  weupon  of  ufTcncf  in  the  ]>owpr  of  making  Um 
povernmcnt  ridiculoas,  EnRlnml,  m  we  nectl  liardly  any,  ba» 
iirviM-  hail  a  (jovernment  <*(  this  desrription,  Tiii'  ni-anwl  ap- 
prtKii'l)  t<i  it  which  hIip  lins  pvi>r  s(*(vi  was  undi^r  thr  imay  uf 
(MiarK's  II.,  and  accord  itigly  thi>  nt-art^st  appniach  tu  Kicnch 
inrmoirs  which  our  litpraturo  possesses,  is  in  the  volam<^  of 
tVpys  and  Hamilton.  Some  of  the  charocteristics  of  the  reign 
of  Charles  H.  reappeared  partlnltv  and  in  a  very  unnttmctire 
form  tmder  thi?  two  first  George*,  and  liave  served  to  im|Kirt  n 
tinge  of  French  eohnir  to  tht*  laemoirs  which  iIi*s<TilM'  Uicir 
('ourts.  Hut,  furtuiiutfly  for  Kii-flaud,  neither  Walptde  nor  his 
roval  ma&tor  were  men  of  reGiK-d  taste.  It  ivould  have  been 
hard  for  a  monarch  like  Qiarlcs  II.,  or  a  mioister  like  Lord 
Ilfilmgbnikc,  to  nsist  tlie  ehnrms  of  those  beautiful  and  sjH^htly 
pirls  who  bparkle  like  diamonds  in  .'ill  thf  mcmoiis  of  tliat  time. 
Their  iiillueiH^!  was  but  Hrnitll.  Ororj^e  1.  aiul  his  suemsscr 
pursueil  Uieir  uiiwirlilv  Lives  aud  riijoyiil  tJielr  biHirish  ntuiiis 
in  a  style  iiot  sedutttiic  tu  Kii^lish  j^cntlcmen.  I'olities  were 
surrendered  to  VVaI|>oie;  and  the  conseijucneo  was  tliat,  altlntujjh 
there  was  plenty  of  immorality  under  those  frraeious  snvereipns, 
yul  the  feminine  element  of  Court  life  had  no  longer  that  con- 
nexiuii  tvilh  public  policy  which  once  for  a  brief  s|Kiee  it  linil 
jiossessed  ;  and  the  resemblance  to  l'"rei>ch  manners  in  Oils  n?s|icrt 
(Ii-ew  less  and  less  till  it  disappeared  altogether  with  the  acces- 
sion of  George  111. 

Thus  in  tliat  witty  ami  amusing  style  of  memoir  in  whieb 
frrave  and  gay  aic  trt^ated  uii  the  same  level,  in  wbicli  drawiog 
the  sword  Bgiunst  an  cuemy  or  throwing  the  handkerchief  to  a 
lady,  treaties  of  peac«  or  canons  of  taste,  a  fresh  famine  or  a  ikew 
play,  are  of  equal  Importance,  England  is  unquestionably  deficienU 
We  have  some  such  memoirs  and  letters,  uu  doubt,  though  they 
arc  not  equal  to  tlie  I'runch.  H.'iniillun,  and  Pep\s,  and  U'aipult!, 
mid  Chesterfield,  and  Selwyn,  and  Hervev,  to  say  nothing  €>f 
Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  Lady  Sullolk,  Madame  J>'Arblay, 
and  others,  have  written  to  a  certain  extent  in  that  style,  liul 
tliese  are  nearly  all  that  wc  have,  and  even  ihcse  betray  lh<<ir 
naliM"  ioil.  There  Is,  howc%cr.  another  class  of  memoirs  muni 
truly  dcseiviiig  (he  title  of  jMdiiii-al,  in  wliich  taigUih  Ulcialunt 


I 


Modem  Pc 


is  nlisulutolv  witbntit  a  rivnl :  as  in  En||jr]aiitl  nlimi!  are  to  be 
f»un<l  the  iiiBlitutioiut  uqcIlt  whicti  ttu-y  fliiurlsh,  Wu  uieaii 
tlit>  (tiariuE,  coiTL>s|M>n(l(!nt.'c,  aiid  biographies  ul'  that  luii^  kuo* 
t:cs»iun  of  eminent  public  men  who  have  conducted  our  iKii'lia*-' 
ini'iitaiy  svstem  during  (lie  last  hundred  years,  'llie  study  of 
(.'(HMtitutionnl  govcTntiic>nt  tlimufrh  tlu<  rncNliutn  ol'  tlipsc  pa^es 
{»  liku  the  rontpinplulion  of  \mxs  under  a  ^Xass  hive.  VVc  »c-e 
tlic  secret  and  iiitcTinittcut  pruL-cssL-s  Itv  which  \^Tca.\.  vvcnls  havq 
l)cf»n  maturcfl.  We  si<c  how  curiously  i>alriotibin  and  M-lhiiiiiK-fiK|l 
a  sincere  faith  in  principles  aud  an  obstinate  love  of  jxiwcr, 
may  be  uiiitofl  in  the  same  men.  VVe  see  tlielr  busy  movemeal^ 
ti)  and  iVo,  their  mines  nod  counter-mines ;  the  disgust  idter 
failure,  tlir  elation  alter  victurv.  We  see  the  strangest  inconsis- 
tencies and  cmitradictions ;  and,  nut  losing-  imr  laith  in  uxcel- 
h^ioe  or  ^rruatncss,  viv.  learn  at  the  same  time  to  bu  more  charit- 
able and  leas  cnnlulous. 

In  our  examination  of  this  class  of  memoirs,  we  will  be^in 
with  the  accession  uf  George  111.,  as  the  epiK'h  nt  which  the 
trti-iuoira  devoted  to  (xmrt  gossip  and  anccilutc  may  Ix-  uuid  in 
gcni-tid  ttrrmti  tn  have  Ikhmi  replaced  by  matter  wliJcli  is  more' 
purely  jnditical.  The  character  ol'  the  memoir  aHiirds  uue  sufli- 
cient  rciifioii  for  niakiuiif  that  date  our  start! ii'T- point,  itut  iu  tlic 
cliariu^tiT  of  tlie  iwrlird  itM.-ll'  yv  shall  find  ittill  slrtuifter  uiuLireii. 

In  the  first  place,  from  1715  tu  17tiU  our  parbamcutary  cua- 
tfsli*   Were,  with  oite  excepti^in,    t»>n(iutfd    to   our  imrliamentary 
|iiirlirs  anil   unronnecti.Ht  with  the  |M>wers  of  the  (Jruwii,     That 
c:kci-ption  was  a  war.     When  Cictirge  11.  heard  uf  any  fighting 
to  he  done,  he  prickM  up  his  ciuv  luid  reijuired  t<>  have  a  hand 
ill  the  business.     But  to  all  other  (juestions  he  wascumparalJveJyj 
hidifferent.       Kxcise    Bills    and   Septennial    Acts    were  notl ' 
to  him,  and  the  Torv  party,  bring  left  without   a  nulurnl  h' 
ivas  reduced  eitlier  ti>  declamation  agaiuKl  hnhery   and  |HTpetiuJ] 
dictatorship,    i>r    to    tliu    declaraliiiu    of   oniuioiis   which    mif^-lit] 
have  liriMighl  the  professor  to  the  Tower,     rhraughout  the  whole 
|>eriod,    then,    the  battles  of   I'arliamcnt  wcro  fought  over  |«u-- 
ticular  measures^  or  were  mere  scrambh-s  for  place  between  the 
Various  sections  of  the  Whig  jsirty,  which  *Ud  not  «vi>n  profess 
to  be  s<*pamted  fnim  eacli  other  by  any  di&tiiu'tioiis  of  principle,. 
But  with  the  accession  uf  George  ill.  a  new  political  elcnieut  was  . 
at  unco  introduced.    l*he  country  secmeil  omy  to  have  been  wait- 
log  for  a  sovereign  who  would  assert  hts  rights,  to  become  the 
scene  of  a  violent  reaction.      It  had  never  been  iiiU>ndcd  by  the 
leiulers  of  the   Revolution  uf  108^   that  I'arliiunent  sliouM  rule 
wtthnut    (iie   King.      The   obje4?t   of  thai   gn-at   <-hangc  had   bn-n 
that  tlic  King  sliuuld  not  tule  tvitliout  the  rarlianieut     When 

thf! 


1 


850  Modam  PoHiiccd  Mrmoin, 

tlkc  House  of  Hanover  was  placed  upon  the  throne  as  a  farther 
jruaiantcc  of  these  principles,  the  Whig-  party  became  ibe  inevit- 
able depository  of  power.  But  thev  had  gone  too  far.  Thpy 
had  abused  tlie  trust  cominittt^  to  tliem :  and  now.  whi>n  a  King 
had  risen  up  to  restore  the  balance  of  the  constitution,  the  Hnp- 
lish  nation  would  support  him.  Thus,  wc  may  Ik*  sure,  reasimed 
a  larjjje  portion  of  the  public  in  those  days;  for  on  mi  nthcf 
hypothesis  is  the  success  of  Cieorge  111.  intelligible.  Ami  now 
l>egan  a  stniggle  hardly  less  important  in  principle  than  that 
whicli  took  place  hetween  Charles  I.  and  his  Parliamcot. 
'J'uryism  had  ajrain  become  practical ;  it  rallied  njund  ao 
actual  living  representative,  to  whom  obedience  was  not  treason, 
Torirs  rither  hail,  or  had  good  reason  to  believe  they  hail,  the 
constitution  on  their  side.  Thu  Sovereign  was  young,  jMipular, 
and  liold  ;  and,  all  things  consi<lerrd,  tlie  two  armies  joined 
battle  upon  far  less  unequal  terms  than  at  first  sight  we  might 
suppose.  Our  two  great  political  parties  were  now,  therefore, 
for  the  first  timp  .iflcr  nearly  righty  yrars  drawn  out  against 
<-ach  otlirr  ujmhi  a  |H-rl'ectly  distinct  issiu!,  u[><in  a  great  rnntititu- 
'tional  question  ;  not  upon  any  mere-  iniiisurc,  however  momentous 
or  interesting,  but  upon  the  method  of  goreminent  itself. 

In  tiic  scH^xind  place  it  is  to  be  obser\'ed  that  the  history  of  the 
reign  of  George  III.  has  still  to  be  written.  Lord  Stanliu))e 
brmgs  us  to  the  Peace  of  Versailles.  Hut  from  17S3  down- 
wanls,  wr  hnvr  no  Histjiry  that  is  (itialifird  tn  trtnk  as  a 
cUssii;.  Mr.  Miiss(*v  will  not  in  nur  judgment  snppiv  tlio  want; 
though  we  desire  to  <lo  full  justice  to  the  spiritwl  style  and 
generally  useful  character  of  tlie  volumes  which  he  has  already 
published.  Then*  are  obvious  reasons,  therefore,  for  endearonr- 
iug  to  gauge  the  extent  and  estimate  the  valne  of  the  materials 
which  the  future  historian  will  cinnmiind  :  to  nsrerlain  how  much 
of  the  rapidly  accumulating  mass  of  Political  Memoirs  is  useful, 
and  how  much  of  it  is  not ;  and  to  classily  the  works  in  question 
according  to  the  jwriotl  of  whicli  they  treat  and  the  tone  in  which  ^J 
ihey  ore  com)MMed.  ^H 

One  very  markeii  impression  which  remains  ujmmi  the  mind  aftrr  ^^ 
the  study  of  any  number  of  thesir  memoirs,   is   llmt  TrHililinn  is 
generally  trustworthy.      Trom  the  first  William  Piti  down  ti>  Sir  MM 
Robert  Peel,  few  statesmen  emerge  from  the  cross-examiaaliua  ^^ 
to  which  their  characters  are  submitted  in  these  volumes  cithCT 
whiter  or  blacker  than  before.     Tliere  arc  exceptions,  but  the  ^J 
conclusion  is  valual>te  because  it  confirms  our  faith  iii  history.  ^| 
We  siM^  that  ac()Uaint-ince  with  the  private  side  of  a  public  man's  ^^ 
char.-icter,  while  it  enables  us  to  fill  in  particular  details,   h-avcs 
the  broad  outlines  trntouchcd.     VV'c  ore  led  to  rcllect  how  impro- 
M  bsblc I 

tx i 


4 


Modem  Political  Meamrs.  351 

babic  it  ii  tlmt  men  o£  eminrnrc,  wbn»c  lives  and  actions  have 
Ijcen  cj:|k»«ciI  to  the  full  ligbt  of  publicity  for  some  thirty  or  forty 
Vf'iirs,  sliimlil  Ik*  frri'ntlv  rnisjmljfctl  by  tlieir  rnntomponirics. 
Tlin  existence  of  jxditii-al  ui<-nH>irs  iiiliirds,  no  iloulit,  an  estcllrnt 
security  against  falsi.* l)i>od.  Kven  an  historian  wlm  is  not  vory 
iiiuuous  for  truth,  will  be  checked  by  the  knowledge  that  Im  uiig- 
fttatcmeuts  can  be  coni'uied.  from  the  {>apers  which  are  pretty  certiiin 
l<>  cmcrgi%  sooner  or  liiler,  from  old  lamily  rrpoait^irics ;  and  w« 
lliiiik  with  Lord  linilcs^  that  they  who  suppress  such  niouinirs 
do  all  that  in  tliem  lies  to  leave  Iiistory  in  darkness.  There  is, 
however,  thus  murh  to  hn  said,  that  a  limited  and  partial  study 
of  these  memoirs  is  worse  than  no  study  at  alL  An  interested 
or  one-sided  writer  may  construct  any  ccuux'ivable  case  upon  any 
question  out  of  these  abundfuit  materials,  without  ii  chance  of 
being  confuted,  except  by  one  who  knows  them  all.  He  who 
pacsc«ses  that  knowledge  will  be  arme<l  a^inst  such  political 
r(r|ircsentations  as  we  too  often  find  in  the  Literal  historians  of 
the  present  day. 

These  memoirs,  if  read  arifjht,  will  tlirow  prcat  lifflit  upon 
various  complicnted  passages  of  our  political  and    Farliainenlary 
liisttirv,  and  in  many  instances  materially  change  our  opinion  of 
tltem.     But  (vc  shall  usually  find  that  change  to  be  one  which 
tcmis  mthcr  to  reconcih^  our  previous  estimate  of  the  actors  with 
facts  wliich  had  perplexed  us,  than  to  ovcrtiirow  tlmt  previous 
estimate.      On  the  other  hand,  it  is  to  l>e   remarked  that  much 
more  vigilanct^  is  necessarv  in  scanning  the  accounts  of  tmnsar- 
tions  than  in  reading  the  diameters  of  individuals.      Writers  nr 
nliUirs  who  are  reluctant  tn  libel  persons,  are  yet  apt  tn  inisnv 
pres<>nt  events,  in  their  anxiety  to  exhibit  their  own  conduct  or 
that  uf  their  friends  in  a  favourable  light;  and  leaving  the  reader 
to  draw  certain'inferences  for  lumself,  they  delude  themselves  into 
the  U-lief  thiit   they  have  nvoideil  nil  ]>prsonali(ies.       Upon  the 
whole,  however,  we  repeat  that  it    is  events  rather  than  ]htkoiis 
which  arc  aifectcd  by  these  publicAtlons.     We  hare  not,  after  the 
perusal  of  some  forty  works  of  this  nature,  changed  onr  «»innions 
Lonl  Chatham,  (n-  the  Duke  of  BedfonI,  or  LonI  Temple  ;  of 
Pitt,    Mr.    ("aiming,    Lonl     (m-nville,    Mr.    Fox,    or    Mr. 
Addington.       ilut   we  Imvi-   changed   our  opinion   of,   or   ratlier 
^rkaps   gained    a    clearer    insight    into,   certain    phases  of  the 
iStholic  question;  certaiji  events  of  the  war;  some  ministerial 
ilNirrussincnts;  and  certain  transformations  of  party. 
Wc   gather,   indtred,   fniin  this   course   uf  rending,   that   the 
liouiularies  of  jmrty  have   been  observe<l  much   more  laxly  thiui 
some  ni'Mlem  jxditicinns  sup|M)ge.     'I'hn   facu  whicb   shbw  this 
may  l»e  read  in  any  ordinary  history  ;  but  all  which  draws  atteo- 
Vol.  112.— iVo.  SS-».         ■         2  A  tioQ 


4 


t'lon  to  those  facts*  wr  find  in  tbn  political  mnnoir.  A 
reailrr  nf  bistcrv  would  tec  tlmt  one  minittrj  succeeilpd  nnolbrr, 
and  that  certain  statesmen  were  in  Cabinet,  witbual  tltinkin, 
perbap*,  of  inquirinfr  if  that  is  wbrre  h(*  should  rxpert  to 
tlicni.  Out  uliea  a  member  of  one  pait^  pauod  over  into 
mnks  of  snother.  it  vas,  of  course,  a  fine  theme  fur  poljti 
rorreapondcnts  snd  dinrists.  Vet,  whatever  the  comments 
provoke,  we  arc  startled  to  find  how  frrquently  "nil  caiily  ev, 
of  this  rinture  occurred  or  were  ronslderetl  to  Iw  riiK*  for 
rpnce.  Although  there  was  a  very  clear  distinction  brtw. 
Wbi}f  and  Tory  on  the  one  fundamental  principli?  of  thn  Ki 
tight  to  choose  his  own  ministers,  jet  individual  stAtfsmon  pflitsi 
backwards  an<l  forwards  between  the  two  rival  camps,  with 
proTokin?  more  or  even  so  raucb  disapprobation  as  such  condnct 
would  elicit  now. 

Public  opinion  appears  tohaTe  exercised  in  former  days  n  rrry 
slight  influence  u]«m  the  calculations  of  stntcsmen.     Hometimi 
indeetl,  Jt   spoke  out  witli   sufhcicnt    plainness,    as  against  t 
Excise  Bill  of  Wnlpole  and  against  the  India  Hill  of  Fox  ;  1« 
at  other  peritMls  it  remained  compnrativcly  sluggish,  and  il 
it  seems  to  hare  been  forgutten.     Statesmen  moved  in  a  smol! 
circle,  with  their  gaso  invariably  turned  inwards,  nnd  seem 
have  judged  of  men  ami  events  by  criteria  of  their  own. 
the  opinion  of  the  vulgar  world  not  unfrccjuentlv  >et  at  defi 
the    predictions    of   the    wisest   statesmen.      Nothing    is    mot' 
remarkable  throughout    these    voluminous   memoirs   than    tb« 
contrast   which    tht^y    present    between    the    opinions    of    thr 
initiated   few  and  the  actual  issues  of  affairs.     The  ilownfnll 
ministers,    for   instance,   is  constantly    predictol,    because    th. 
were  deficient  in  tbos4>  nualitics  which  at  VVbite's  and  Brooks's 
were  held   to    be  essential   to  success— brilliant  eloquence,  or 
great    connexions,     or    striking    aclmtnistratire     tah-nt.       The 
moml  support  which  a  ministry  derives  from  feeling  itself  i 
unison  witli  tlie  ])opuIar  opinion  of  Oie  day  went  for  little.     Ni 
errn    the    large    majorities  which    these    doomed    fiovemTnent* 
regularly  obtainod  in  Parliament  seem  1o  have  affected  tliis 
judicc.     It  !»]  the  Opposition  Into  »  confident  way  of  t.^lkmg, 
and  has  introduced  into  memoirs  of  the  time  assertions  of  minis- 
terial weakness,  which,  not  l>cing  foun(!e<l  iiytnn  fact,  ore  ralcu- 
lati'd  to  mislead  us  very  much  in  oar  estimate  uf  imrticulnr 
transactions. 

Such  is  one  source  of  error  peculiar  to  the  pnlittcal  uiemoi 
of  this  period,  which  is  perhaps  only  to  be  detected  by  el 
atudy    nf    tlioir    contents.      Another    is    more    obvious.      W 
mean    that,    unless    edited    with    extreme    ctrc,   the   jonmals. 

letters. 


?^ 


tint 

I 


Modem  PotUicai  Metwirt. 


353 


frtt«T9j  ami  miscellanmus  rtrnains  of  public  men  are  sure  to 
rppn'-wnt  so  miicli  <if  persimal  pre|x>ssPssUin  as  grratlv  to  impiiir 
thpir  valiH"  for  liisU>riirttl  purposwa.  The  first  idra  which  occurs 
to  tl)c  mind  of  anv  tniiii  liitrn-stril  In  such  subji'Cta,  on  setting'  or 
hearing  of  a  fresh  issue  of  family  papers,  is  that  now  at  length 
we  shall  have  the  true  history  of  some  hitherto  m\-8terious 
tnuuactions  ;  that  we  shall  be  admitted  behind  the  scenes,  and 
ser-  the  actors  in  great  events  with  their  stage  costume  thrown 
aside.  Well,  we  do  sen  all  this  ;  but  in  pniporlion  to  the  freedom 
■  with  which  transactions  are  discussed  and  motives  acknowh-df^ml 
'  in  such  documents,  is  tlie  nijenness  with  which  pergonal  pre- 
judices arc  indul^e<l  and  political  enemies  defamed.  Thus  wliat 
wc  pain  on  one  side  we  are  in  danger  of  losing  on  the  other. 
We  are  certainly  admitted  to  dischisures  which  could  never  havo 
been  miidc  in  Parliament;  hut  we  arc  also  distiarterl  hv  inter- 
ruptions which  greatly  ol)scure  their  moral  h-sson.  The  saints  of 
old  are  said  to  have  suflt-red  much  from  the  malignity  of  demons, 
who  would  interpose  themselves  between  the  pages  of  a  gotxt  book 
and  the  eyes  of  the  devout  reailer,  leading  away  his  thoughts  to 
unholy  objceU,  and  making  the  words  of  truth  and  wisdom  unin* 
ti^lligible.  Till*  readier  of  political  mt^moirs  is  tormented  in  the 
same  fashion  by  the  demons  of  spite  and  jiarliidit)',  which  (lit 
Ixrfore  his  eyes  like  Imts,  as  he  labours  to  eJ£lracl  the  tnitli  from 
some  long  and  ctmfidential  narrative.  The  value,  tlierefon*,  of 
a  really  honest  and  competent  editor  for  works  of  this  description 
may  be  easily  understood.  But  it  seems  very  difficult  to  procure 
one.  Th(i  task  h  often  undertaken  by  relations;  and  the  relations 
of  a  distinj^iiishcd  man  arc  prone  not  only  to  ascribe  an  untlue 
im|Mirlanoe  t/>  him  ami  Ids  actions, — and  tIiereff)ro  to  fliMwl  the 
press  with  needlrss  and  trivial  matter, — but  also  to  adopt  all  bis 
views,  and  defend  all  his  fancies  with  little  or  no  czamioation.  Or 
if  the  work  be  confided  to  the  hands  of  some  professed  author,  ho 
again  may  naturally  )>e  unwilling  to  displease  his  patrons;  while 
the  fhunces  nn?  that  iieitber  the  one  nor  ihc  other  |H>ssessr!<(  that 
miiiuttr  knowltnlgtr  of  (mr  Parliamentary  history  wlueh  is  n'(iuiri'd 
for  the  correction  or  modification  of  cr  parte  statements.  Whi*u 
Lady  Hester  Stanhope  was  told  of  the  publication  of  thr  Chattiam 
Corrcspondejice,  she  obscned  at  once  that  it  would  he  certain  V^ 
toi&leail  the  world.  Nobody,  she  said,  ^\as  compftrnt  to  mIiC 
jDhlttiral  papers  of  tluit  eni ;  fur  young  meu  undt-rstiNid  neither 
lb«  old  phrasi-tdi'-jy  nor  the  old  pulittcs.  Lad\  Hester  w.ts  pro- 
Imbly  in  the  right:  for  tt  is  very  diflicull  to  ti;ll  at  this  <listanee 
of  time  how  much,  or  how  little,  certain  phrases  of  thr  4>ld  scrhiMd 
wen*  intended  to  convey. 

Tlie  first  bnti-h  of  our  meinnirs  which  admit  of  1)cing  tpnrknl 

2  A  2  oft 


3fi4 


Modem  Pditical  Memoirs. 


1 


off  by  tUcms(>lv<'s  ore  such  as  reloto  mainly  to  ibe  f«rfirr 
of  Ottir^jp  tU«  Third's  rrigii.  Willi  the  first  Ministry*  of 
Pitt  a  new  sl.ito  nf  tlitn^  (vittimeiired  ;  new  tdras  bqm 
lunl  ;  new  men  nni«'anHl  upon  On-  public  scene ,  mud 
forciit  rlaiis  of  publtr  ((uostions  b^>gan  to  afritatc  Fariiuncnt.  W» 
may  Kifcly.  iherfioiv,  take  the  previous  period  a»  ooe  com 
within  itaeif,  witli  its  own  particular  ideas,  difitcnltirs, 
metbods.  Some  of  the  memoirs  ivbicb  rdatp  Xn  it  will,  of  mo 
run  on  into  rlionrxt  ;  and  winu^  tlierr  are  which  carry  us  o«t 
whole  breadth  of  the  reig-ris  of  1:hi;  two  hiat  f  leorni-s.  lial  tb 
dom  not  affect  the  principle  of  divisiou  we  have  adopted  ; 
it  will  t;f'nc>rnily  lx>  fidiiiil  tliat  such  memoird  arr  not  eijaall; 
useful  for  both  die  earlier  and  the  latter  period.  One  cxr^pd 
however,  Uien*  is,  and  that  is  in  Uiat  tmbrokmi  series  of  famil 
papers  wliich  pn-serve  to  us  tlie  memory  of  tlie  fJrcnrill 
Sln;tchtii^  all  the  way  from  the  year  1742  t4>  the  last  acceAsiou 
i^iitl  J>erby  to  power,  Uiey  an;  eijually  interesting  and  e<iaal 
iinjiurtant  at  any  point  of  time  as  for  as  ItiSO.  IJut  the  l>iari 
and  Corresjiondene*!  of  L^ird  Mnlmeshurv,  wbtcli  uuik  next 
uoiut  of  duration  tu  die  firi-iivillL'  wries,  du  not  tlimw  mm 
light  ujwn  domestic jMiIiticH  ctarlier  than  the  French  Rcvolutit 
I'rom  17l>7  to  17.SI  l^ord  Malmeahury  was  almost  constant 
abroad.  From  17V>3  to  17{M)  be  was  ahroatl  ai;ain:  and  it  vi: 
only  during  the  latter  years  of  hig  life,  down  to  141?,  that 
w:ls  iiiurh  tnvotved  with  the  political  |)artie!i  of  the  time, 
in  17l'2  and  the  early  pari  of  1703  lu-  was  intimntcly  co' 
ct^icd  in  those  private  negotiations  which  preceiled  tlie 
Whig' secession  ;  and  we  shall  notice  in  its  proper  place  the  highly 
intereatiufj  account  which  he  has  left  u.<i  of  that  transaction.  Oi 
loielg-n  affairs,  of  course,  lie  is  ihrouijhimt  a  v»lu:ible  authurit 
Kiiuniiig'  nearly  jiarallel  with  the  Malmesbury  Papers  is 
Diary  and  Cnrrespiindetice  of  Loitl  Cnruwallis,  "llie  ftinn 
brffin  iu  17ti7,  and  terminate  in  1H08.  The  latter  extend  frm 
177l>— 1805;  ami,  like  Lonl  Malmesbury's,  their  chief  value  ft 
our  present  purp<ise  depends  u]hju  dieir  later  [lortiftns.  IJurin,^ 
the  earlier  part  of  his  career  L<ir(l  Coniwalli*  was  in  Amerim. 
I'Vom  \li*,\)Xn  17114  he  was  in  Tmlia.  And  tlinugli,  of  course,  fullt)f  , 
very  iiitereslin;;  matter,  the  ivtjwrrs  wliirli  relate  to  these  jxriiKls  dd^l 
ntjtaffnnlso  much  material  for  illustratini*  the  perulinr  clutracier-^V 
islies  of  {Kililical  memuirH  as  those  which  relate  wholly  to  domcfttc 
]>olitJcs.  The  Correspondence  of  Ihirke  (1  74  1  tn  1797)  is  sin^-^J 
larly  UirTen  «tf  Parliamentary  topics  till  afu-r  the  risi?  of  Mr.  INttfl 
Both  Ihe  Memorials  and  Corres|M)rulrnci-  of  Pox  and  thi-  Life  o^^ 
l*'u-v,  the  one  edited  and  the  other  written  by  ICrul  Kusm^II,  re- 
semble in  tins  respect  the  Curres|H)ndcncc  of  liurke.     'Iliry  arc, 

ini) 


oed,^ 


Moffem  Political  Metnotrt. 


355 


ini1iM-il,  full  of  the  Coalilion  of  1783,  on  wliicli  Hurkc,  slranp;  to 
say,  is  silent;  but  wc  find  nutlung  in  them  Ui  help  us  in  uiitlcr- 
standing  thosn  earlier  intrigues  of  Georjje  tJic  Tbinr*  rpipn,  the 
Jntricacy  of  which  h  suflirient  Ut  tliiunt  the  most  inquisitivr. 
Nrvorthclcss,  iis  Fox  was  thirteen  years  in  Parliament  during 
Uir  first  jieriod,  his  Correspond cnte  must  not  he  forgotten  in  nnn- 
inerating-  the  works  which  relate  to  it.  He  entered  Pnrli.iinpnt, 
ill  fact,  just  as  that  series  of  wretched  squabbles  which  Ixrf^nn 
with  the  ministry  of  Lord  Bute  had  been  finally  concluded  liy 
the  promotion  of  Lord  North  to  the  Treasury,  durin;^  \ThoBe  long 
administration  iKirtieg  were  plainJy  divided  on  one  or  two  great 
questions,  and  few  of  those  complications  occurred  of  which  wc 
are  driven  to  look  to  private  sources  for  a  solution. 

The  works  wliich  more  properly  Ijelong  to  and  illustnitn 
the  first  twenty  years  of  Geor^  HI.  are  a  certain  portion  of 
the  Orcnville  annals,  and  the  Memoirs  and  Correspondence  of 
Lord  Chatham,  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  Lord  Kockingham. 
These  four  an;  puirly  jwlitiral,  antl  Uiir  directly  u|>on  tin* 
Alinisterial  movements  of  tliat  quarrelsome  era.  The  chief 
actors  in  them  were  all  at  different  times  in  tlie  Cabinet,  and 
were,  for  the  most  part,  leaders.  Of  course  both  the  writers  and 
the  editors  Iiave  a  natural  bias  in  favour  of  their  own  opinions 
apd  their  own  heroes.  But  then  that  bins  is  virtually  avoM*4HJ 
tm  the  tith'-piif;ir.  Wc  know  thai  wii  are  going  to  liave  tin; 
Wobum,  the  Hayes,  or  thii  Wentworth,  nr  the  Stowo  version  of  a 
imrticular  epoch  submitted  to  us.  And,  by  carefully  comparing 
ihrsc  sets  of  correspondence,  we  can  arrive  at  the  truth  on  most 
of  the  questions  Ut  which  ihcy  relate.  But,  bt*sides  th(jsc  wliicli 
liave  just  IjeL-n  mentioned,  we  have  other  memoirs  of  a  less  exclu- 
sively |M>Iittcal  character,  containing  nevertheless  very  Interesting 
matter.  First  among  t!u!«e  stand  VValpole's  Memoirs  of  the  Kx^ign 
of  fJieorpc  111.,  17(jO — 1783.  Tlien  wc  have  the  celebrated  Me- 
moirs of  Wraxall,  1772 — 178'.t,  of  which  one  instalment  was 
tublisheil  in  1JS15  and  anolher  in  IS^Li,  TTie  later  letters  of 
rtinl  Clu^terfield,  those  of  Lady  Suffolk,  l<ady  Mervey,  ami  Lady 
Mary  VV'ortley  l^lontagu,  all  throw  some  light  upon  tlie  periml ; 
and  OS  these  writers  were  less  immediately  interested  in  politics, 
such  remarks  as  tliey  do  occasionally  make  on  the  conduct  of 
contemporary  statesmen  are  doubly  valuable.  George  .Selwyn'a 
(*orres|iondence,  which  extenits  rinu-n  to  1780,  contains  no  political 
intormation. 

It  is  ft  curious  circumstance  that  of  all  these  works,  the  two 
which  have  been  most  copiously  drawn  0|M>n  by  succeeding 
writrm  are  the  two  which  are  decidedly  lensi  trustworthy, 
— those  of  Wnlpole  and  of  Wraxall.     The  unfitness  of  either  to 


U-  accepbHl  as  an  iusturical  witncsi  Uu  been  Tcry  pablicl;  and 
wmclusivfly  dcmouslrotcd.  Vet  wo  find  them  as  ttnli1u»tunglj 
qooted  for  \vktty  [)ur|H)SPS  as  if  iu»  sucU  L*jijxisurc  Lad  beta 
made*.      VVmxall,  buwcrcr,  is  valuable  tu  a  cerUio  extent  (ut  LU 


poUtiml  portraits.  We  du  nut  mciui,  uf  couru*,  that  they  bare  w 
prcU^nsioti*  Ui  stand  alongside  of  the  roaiterpteccs  of  this  bnnrl 
of  compofitioD.     But  they  bare  merit ;  anu  Ladv  Hc»tt!r  Siui- 


}a 


haptf  though  she  contmdicted  him  on  one  or  tni>  iinponaat  points, 
aaid  that  his  descriptions  vrirrc  often  so  gocnl  tlrnt  sUti  shuuld  haTOHl 
liked  to  make:  liitn  a  Duke,     But  all  except  thL-sL- jMurtraits  i»  puraH 
gnuip.     Hiiw  many  turkeys'  rggs  tlie  Duke  uf  Rutland  used  to 
(Sit  for  breakfast — hoiv  inudi  money  Fui.  lost  to  Lord  Clcrmonl 
on    a    lirifrr'fi    rapacity    for    Luniips — anecdotes    of    this    class, 
spited  wiih  political  scandal,  and  interspersed  with  s<>m^  tem't- 
a|Htcrypbal  accounts  of  his  own  adventUR'S  in  Drninatk,  form  tltf»i 
»Uipl4'  of  his  memoirs,  i>f  which  the  genciul  iinpn-ssiuii  li'ft  iii: 
tlir  reader's  mind  is  tlmt  here  wr  have  not  any  %aluaUle  materials 
for  bistury.      Waliiule's   menioirs  arc   writti*n  in  a  spirit  of  sour 
utd  utiftcru|>uIous\Vhiggism,  which  has  poisoucd  at  the  fuuuiain* 
b(»id  tlic  wbole  stream  uf  information  which  descends  from  him 
On  Hiiy  uicely-lnilnnced  point  wc  should  not  think  of  alluwiug  b 
evidence*  to  turn  the  scide.      l'*ven  where   bis  reju-esfutaliiuis  a 
slreii^ftbened  by  conUiniporary  testimony,  wo  shall  geiieially  fin 
that   iio  eiia^^^Talps.      jlitt  it   lias  liecn   rescrt'ed   fur   au  ouiim' 
Whig  writer  of  our  uwn  day  to  accept  him  when;  be  stands  alon 
aod  to  reject  his  .'iuth<irity  where  it  is  confirmed  by  ntuu' 
VVal|Kjlc  may  have  cxaf^^rratcd  the  bad  qualities  of  the  Duku 
l^-dturd  ;  but  there  is,  at  all  events,  a  preponderance  of  conlmo' 
jKjrary    eTidrnce    adverse   ti»   the    noble    Duke.     He    abuses 
t)it    moasured  tiTms   tb(>  Ministry  of   LonI   tShcIlmrno ;  and 
litis  hr  boa  but  few  supjiortcry.      Vet  JLoiil   llusscll  adopts,  wit 
only  ti'illing  n>8cr\'ations,  his  hostile  account  of  Lord  Shelbura 
wbih-  he  repudiates  with  disdain  his  aspersions  on  the  Duke 

Uedfoni 

"I'lio    Bi^fiHid    batch   of  memoirs  which  arc   caimble   of  Iji-I 
class«'4l  tu};etJii7  date  from  the  rise  of  Mr.  Pitt.     '!»  tbi'se  have 
be  added  thL'meinuirs  wliich,  tike  the  Malmisbur)'  and  Cuniwall 
Correspondence,  start  fn>m  an  earlier  point,  but  whose  chief! 
Icrest  lies  in  the  subsequent  period.   This  we  should  lay,  spe  '  * 
roughly,  extends  from  17m3  to  the  termination  of  the  great  wwl 
anil  as  we  had  ineuioirs  relating  to  the  first  cjweli  which  raiiov 
intu  the  second,  so  we  have  memoirs  relating  Ut  die  u'c-imd  whirl 
extend  into  tho  tliinl.      Among  these  an:  tlie  Lives  of  Camii 
VVilhtrforce,   Lord  Grey,  Lord  Eldon,  and  Lord  Sidmuutli ;  t 
Djaiy    and    ConxspoiKlence    of   Lord   CoUheslor,   of  M 

D'ArbIa 


Mo-imm  Political  Memcirt. 


85T 


I 
I 


f>'Arblay,  ntid  Mi»  Knif^t.  Tliosc  which  nrc  limitnl  tn  thn 
ptriod  \vc  have  jutt  defined  arc  the  Livr«  of  Pitt,  Fox,  nnd 
ShcruUn  ;  I-i»nt  IlolUnd's  Memoirs  <if  the  Wliig-  Party;  tins 
CViiirta  nn<l  ('aliinrts  «f  fli^trpr  III.;  tlin  Dinry  miil  CorTL-spiiid- ; 
vw-x:  of  fleortre  Rose;  iif  Lord  AiirklaiwI,  of  Loril  ("astlereatrli, 
untl  die  Marquis  Wi-lleslry  ;  nin!  the  lleminiitrcnees  uf  Lady 
blester  Stanhope.  The  line  of  demarcation  t>etween  the  Plttito 
savi  |>rc-Piltitr  period  is  marktxl  with  curious  distlnctnras.  The 
foremost  men  in  (he  enrlier  onp  were  LonI  Oiathiim,  Lard 
Tenijilu,  Gcorj^e  Gn^iiviHe,  the  Dulce  of  ile<1fonl,  tlie  Mnnjuia 
of  Kf)ekinirhain,  I-<himnd  Hiirke,  and  Lord  Xorth.  Chatham 
died  in  1775.  Temple  in  177'J,  Grenvillt-  in  1770,  BedfonI  in 
1771,  K/Hkingham  in  1783.  Lord  North  retirfvl  fn>iti  ptihlie 
life  aftrr  tlie  nml  of  the  Otnlition ;  and  of  tlie  whole  phiiliinx  only 
Mr.  Burke  reinaiiml.  During  thif  first  Um  ytnvn  of  Mr.  Pitc's 
ad minisl ration  a  new  geiiemtioit  of  stalcsincn  sprang  into  exist- 
eftcc ;  and  to  this  same  evenlfid  peritxl  we  trace  the  source  of 
more  ]>olitical  memoirs  than  to  any  other  period  in  our  nnnnls. 
Abbot,  Scott,  Canning,  Hose,  and  Addinfrton,  Castlen-n^rli, 
Orcflviile,  VVcUesIer.  and  WilhcrfoTCc,  nil  came  into  the  House 
of  Cummcms  ahout  thw  timi-,  and  liavc  all  left  materials  for  me- 
moirs. On  the  Whisj  side  onlv  two  men  of  real  emim^nrn  made 
llicir  d<tl)iit  within  the  perlocl — Lonl  Orey  and  Lord  l^rskine. 
Sheridan  dates  from  178f).  Krien  was  not  bo  mueli  either  a 
Whip  or  H  Tory,  as  a  personal  adherent  of  Lord  North  ;  thouifh 
the  Whi^s  seem  lo  have  c!aimc<t  him  as  one  of  themselvf^s  after 
17><Ji,  and  to  have  regarded  with  anger  faig  suhsequent  desertion 
lo  Nfr.  PitL 

Of  this  iccond  dirifiion  of  memoirs  it  is  diflicalt  to  sa^^at 
onp  is   more  trustworthy  than  another.     The  fullest  and  most 

Mercstinff  are  the  Courts  and  Cabinets  of  Gefjrge  III.,  the  latter 
rt  of  Lonl  Malnieslmrv's  Oiafy,  the  Colchester  and  Auckland 

»jaries,  the  Diary  "f  Georfje  Rose,  and  the  Lives  of  Mr.  Pitt 
and  Lord  Eldon.  We  still  want  a  f;ood  Life  of  Mr.  Cannings 
although  Mr.  Stapleton's  work  contains  important  information. 
The  Life  of  Lord  Sidmnuth,  Iw  his  son-in-Inw  Dean  Pellew. 
thoug-h  a  valuable  addition  to  our  jKilittcal  litrrature,  is  heavy, 
Tlie  Lives  of  Fox  and  Sheridan  are,  thn  <ine  sit|Khod,  and  thr* 
other  (tlioujrh  on  interesting  U>nkj  ill  supplied  with  tstntc  serrftjt. 
The  Cnstlereagh  Pn()er8  are  prirtrarte<l  to  an  unmanaq-i-iibh*  Inilk. 
In  Wellealrf  there  is  t'»o  much  of  Asia,  and  in  \Vill»erfor(e  too 
mncb  of  Africa.  Of  the  three  lady  memoir-writers  whom  we 
hare  mentioned,  two  have  produced  works  of  eonsidenible  in- 
terest. Unhappilv,  however,  thev  arc  not  jfrcat  autliorities  on 
politics,  and  all  their  statements  require  to  be  carefully  checked  ; 

Lady 


358 


Modem  Political  Memotn. 


Lady  Hester  Stauliopc  In  particular,  whoso  wondrrfuUy  livrl 
aiid   frrapliit'  pirHirps  of  i\\f  ]iersons  and  tlie  society  whicU  shoj 
had  knonn  durinj;  her  residence  under  Mr.  Fitt'g  roof  miwt  \t9\ 
received  with  extreme  caution,  thoufrh  on  the  persunal  habits  aiwt 
character  of  Pitt   himself  she  gpealcs  with  a  weight   tliat  ranoiit 
be   disputed.     The  voluminoas   Diary  of  Madame   lyArblay  il 
disappointing,  and  viekls  few  materials  to  the  historian  ;  bat  Misfi 
Knight's  autuhiogmphy.  though  wr  have  had  occasion  to  point! 
out  in  it  some  of  those  oversif^hts  to  which  all  such  publiciUit 
are  liable,  contains  much  useful  matter  and  many  most  suggestiti 
hints. 

For  the  tliird  period,  that,  namelv,  whlrli  surceetled  the  cimt-li 
sion  of  the  war,  bringing  with  it  Ixilh  new  men  and  new  mnii 
some  of  the  above-mentioned  volunirsare  of  course  as  useful  as  U 
an  earlier  stage.   To  the  numWrwc  ought  perhaps  to  add  thrdiarir 
antl    letters  of  Plumer  VVanI,   Sir  Samuel  Komilly,  !\tu\  Franril 
Homer  j  since  the  first  of  tliese  pxtnuls  from    tlie    VL-ar  ISO*) 
1^(^  the   fieconil;fmm   1806  to  181H,  ami  the  thini  from   II 
to  1817.     The  most  imi>ortant  of  those  which  relate  exrlusircl] 
to  the  later  pertotl  ore  the  Courts  and  Cabinets  of  the  KegencyJ 
llic  Memoirs  of  the  Kt^ign  of  fiwirge  IV,,  and  lite  nuekinghni 
Diary,  all  Grenville  jiublii-atiuiis;   N'ottw   by  Sir  RoIxti  Ihr 
an   nUI  Whig,    who  s:it  in   Parliament   fnim    IHl'i^   to  1851  ; 
Memoirs  of  MaekinUwli;  tlie  scandalous  Diary  of  Lady  Cluulo 
Campbell ;  the  memoirs  left  behimi  by  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel ; 
Mr.  Roebuck's  History  of  the  Reform  Bill;  the  letters  of  Lionl 
Dudley  to  the  Bisliop  of  LlnndalT;  ami  the  Life  and  also  tlir 
Despatches  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington.      Tlie  corrcs|Hmdeiiee  ij^H 
Rjkikes  with  the  Duke,  as  it   begins  in  181.^,  mu&t    be  m)niiLli''^| 
into  this  li&l,  although  it  is  of  no  value;  but  Raikes's  .Journal 
(lH3I-m4tlf,  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  CourU  and  Cabi'^ 
nets  of  William  IV.  and  Queen  Victoria,  belong  to  a  diffe 
era  of  the  |X)]iticaI  world;  the  former  Iteing  in  fact  almost  it 
only  pulilieal   Diary  of  the  old  species  which  relates  to  ihej 
R»»form  e|>i»ih. 

These  memoirs  are,  of  course,  of  very  \'aTious  merit.     Fo 
fulmras  of  information  and  tolerable  fairness,  we  should  say 
Grenville  Publications,  the   Diary  of  Lord  Colchester  (who  wa 
tlie  F(4!ipient  of  manv  confidenees  from  the  lending  politicians  u 
botli  sides),  and  the  Life  of  Lord  Eltlon,  by  l-lornce  Twiss,  are 
best.     Dean  i*cilew,  as  we  have  wiid,  is  lieavy,  and  not  especial] 
sagacious.     Plumer  Ward  is  l)etter  ;  but  he  is  inspired  by 
pivsimal  bitterness  towards  pulitital  opjxmeots.     His  Diaiy  cor 
mences  in  1^09,  just  when  Lord  Malmesburv's  terminates,  and 
very  instructive  regarding  the  political  squabbles  which  precede 

the 


Modern  Political  dJemoirr. 


35y 


the  rofiifrnatioii  of  the  Dukp  nf  Poitlaml,  and  winch  nfriutetl  the 
iniiiislry  «l*  Mr.  l*erceval.  Vic  is  on(^  of  the  few  mcTnoir-nritt'rs, 
if  not  the  only  one,  who  has  expressed  »n  exalted  opinion  of  tlmi 
st-ttesinaii.  He  srrms  to  have  thought  tlint,  for  the  jfftneral  pur- 
pows  of  debate,  I'iTwviiI  wiis  a  iM-ttrr  HjM-aker  timii  Mr.  Ciiiniii'^. 
But  he  is  extremely  unfair  to  I)otli  Cniiiiin;;  ami  Lord  VVellesley, 
and  hifl  editor  unfortunati'ly  has  done  nothing  to  mitigate  t)ic 
evil. 

The  Pari  i  amen  to  ry  Diary  of  Sir  Samuel  Romllly,  though  an 
interesting  n-ronl  of  his  times,  contains  Utile  or  nothing  of 
moment  upon  any  <>f  the  riddles  o(  the  period.  Homer's  Letters 
and  his  Diary  sliow  great  ahilitv,  and  manv  of  his  reilectiuns  on 
passing  events  are  drawn  from  a  depth  of  thought  qui'e  uncom- 
mon in  politicians.  The  '  Papers  of  Sir  Kobert  reel,'  which 
were  edited  by  Lord  Stanhope  and  Mr.  Canlwell,  relating  to 
his  eonduct  in  1829,  1835,  ami  ISifi,  canm»t  be  read  with  indif- 
ference ;  but  they,  too,  conform  to  the  general  law.  They  tell  us 
little  which  we  did  not  already  know :  though,  doubtless,  future 
editions  of  them  may  tell  us  more,  as  many  oif  his  Papers  relating 
to  the  Repeal  of  the  Corn-laws  have  been  witldiehl  for  the  present, 
nut  of  reg.iril  to  [icrsons  still  living — an  example  of  ilelicary 
which  one  or  two  other  editors  would  have  tlone  well  to  nntii-i- 
palcand  to  follow.  We  must  not  expect^  however,  that  with  the 
greater  publicity,  and  probably  greater  simplicity  which  attends 
all  [Tolitical  transactions  of  the  present  day,  the  same  materials 
will  survive  which  give  their  K<'*t  to  jmlitii-al  memoirs.  For  the 
mana'mTes,  and  intrigues,  and  conspiracies  which  oncupy  iIicm" 
vi>lumes,  a  small  circle  of  jMrfonners  was  riipiin-d,  and  :i  compa- 
ratively uninformed  public.  A  few  individuals  were  then  the 
pivots  of  the  whole  machine,  and  it  was  worth  while  to  secure 
their  co-operation  by  a  variety  of  means  which  are  now  falling 
into  disuse.  Ncws|>apcrs,  too,  in  the  |mesent  ilay  are  so  much 
Ijettrr  infonnetl,  that  transactions  are  drteeti^d  now  which  would 
in  former  times  have  e.seappd  notice  ;  and  wo  cannot  conscfjueutly 
antiri]Hilr  frfim  ptilitical  memoirs  in  future,  either  the  novelty 
or  the  racineut  which  tlistinguish  those  of  nn  earlier  period. 
Sir  Robert  Peel's  memoranda  are  indeed  nmfessedly  no  more 
tlian  a  vindication  of  himself,  Hut  even  the  Diary  of  Mr. 
Rnikes,  which  is  plainly  built  U|Kin  the  old  models,  is  of  Uttlc 
political  valui>. 

It  is  to  l>e  idts4-rved  tliat  in  this  collection  of  memoirs  the  two 
great  political  parties  arc  represented  with  tolerable  evenness; 
the  Whigs  having  a  slight  majority.  We  do  not  pretend,  indeed, 
tt>  have  givi'u  our  rc-ndei-s  an  exhaustive  eatilogue  of  thes^  works. 
But  wc  find,  on  re-perusing  tile  last  few  pages,  that  we  have  set 

duwu 


AUdcrn  Politicni  Memoirs. 

dawn  u  many  as  forty-six  ;  ot"  which  cij^htcen  arc  Tory  mvinmn^ 
twenty-one  are  Whig,  and  the  remainder  doubtful.  Tlw  piirn 
Whig  and  pure  Tory  iituDfv  speak  for  theniBcIve*.  Tiir  ilcmlitful  or 
ncnitrat  odcb  nir  tliosc  of  Grenvillc,  Auckland,  ComwitMis,  iuiil 
strictly  s|M;aking,  perhaps,  Malmesbury  and  VVellcslcy*  Sevrml 
of  du^  memoirs  lluctuato  in  their  political  to»o,  jast  as  their 
authors  fluctuated  in  their  political  alietfiancc;  and  there  are 
some  which  we  know  not  whether  to  describe  as  doublt'ul,  as 
Tiny,  or  as  Pittite. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  illustrate  the  general  chaTarteristirs 
which  we  have  attributed  to  political  memoirs,  liy  a  few  examples 
under  each  head.  It  is  remarked  by  the  editor  of  the  Aucklaikd 
Correspondence,  at  the  conclu&iitn  of  his  last  volume,  that  *  it 
would  be  as  fair  to  write  the  Life  of  I'ltl  from  the  Memorials 
of  I'ox,  as  to  estimate  Lord  Auckland's  character  from  ihe  cor- 
rrsporidrnce  oi  his  bitterest  enemies.'  All  that  nei'd  be  lulihMi 
Ut  this  statement  is,  that  the  ctuiversc  of  it  is  quite  as  trur. 
The  first  thin^;  to  l>c  done  by  that  comparatirely  small  number 
i>f  persons  who  read  |Kilitical  memohs  fur  anything  more  th-iu 
mere  amuiemcnt,  is  to  check  \\\k  statements  of  edilora  by 
ref«Tence  Ui  contemiwniry  memoii-s.  If  we  find  that  Uir«e 
f^i'nerally  agree  in  their  estimate  of  a  particular  puUir  man, 
We  shall  b(>  very  cautious  of  allowing  the  representations  »f 
n'latives  tu  superseile  it.  More  especially  wilt  this  be  tlte  caso 
when  it  is  difhcult  to  discover  anv  grounds  of  personal  animori^ 
b^wcen  tlie  allejfcd  victim  and  his  tiaducers.  How  far  these 
ki  apply  to  liord  Auckland  himself,  we  shall  consider  pre- 
tly.  We  will  first  take  the  character  of  anotlier  public  maii, 
whom  a  relative  has  in  like  manner  attempted  ti»  redoirm  fn_mi 
»hlm|uy.  The  behaviour  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford  to  (leorge  111^ 
durinf^  the  first  few  years  of  his  reign,  is  one  of  the  salient 
features  in  the  Annals  of  our  Courts  and  Cabinets.  It  is 
well  known  that  in  17ti&  he  had  an  important  interview  with 
till*  King,  for  the  purpose  of  remonstrating  against  Itackstairs 
iiilluenee.  It  was  always  said  that  he  had  behavci]  on  tlwticen- 
sion  with  unwarmntablc  violence;  but  for  a  long  time  Jimiiui 
was  tlie  otdy  authority  for  its  actual  effect  upim  tlic  King.  At 
this  distance  of  time  we  can  hardly  read  his  words  without  a 
smile.  'He  repeatedly  gave  the  King  the  lie,  and  left  him  in 
cimvnUinni.'  Curiously  enough,  however,  Wnlpole  corroborates 
the!  stati'mnit.  Mp  says  tluit  the  King  subaequt'ntlv  drclnrf>i),  if 
he  luul  oot  ordered  the  Duke  out  of  his  |HT6eiice,  lie  shoulil  have 
been  suHucatud  with  iudigtmumi.  \nw  tbcre  is  no  necessity  b> 
accept  these  stories  in  their  literal  signification,  thotigh  we 
mnst  reinembor  that  between  VV'alpole  and  Junius  there  was  oa 

kind 


Modern  Political  Mantnrt. 


361 


I 
I 


I 


kinil  of  cooccrt,  its  xhcy   lM*]on{;<Ml  *to  widely  <Ufft'rcnt  scctioiu  of 
ihv  iliwirguiiisrd  Whig  \inrty ;    but  the  question  is.  wlu'ther  tlicse 
sLiirics  i]u  itiiL  suikr  tlii?  kev-noti*  c»f  tlic  Duke's  cliarnctiT.      jL^trU 
iiussf'll,  uiid  Mr.  iM.'ifis(>_v,  who  has  partially  I'ollowiil  ill  Lis  fiKit- 
itcpK,  maintain  that  it  is  not  liMt/  tluit  tlu*  Dukr  tratis^eswd  the; 
tiotuids   of  decency  or  etiquf^ltt^.      Lord  Uussell  arfrucs  frciin  tliu 
minutes  uf  the  intended  rvmonscnuicc  tbund  amon^  the  Duke's 
[n|H.Ts:  Mr.  Mnssey,  from  the  fact  that  the  Duke  as  a  dipio- 
loatist    'was  accuntomcil    to   me-asare    hi»   words.'*     But   tliesu 
arguments  even  in   th<^  nlislract  am   worth  very  lUile.      For  thn 
point  at  issue  is  wht'ther  or  nut  the  Dukn  hnt  his   U-mjH-r.      If 
nut,  his  remonstrance,  however  firm,  is  not  likely  to  have  been  dis- 
FctpvctfuJ.     If  he  did,  his  minute  of  course  would  be  forf;otten. 
On  the  other  tmml,  the  fact  that  the  Duke  had  been  a  diplomatist, 
though  it  rais4!S  a  rertain  presum}>tion  in  favour  of  his  |K>wer»  of 
self-cuiitjul,  will  iH)t  stniiil  for  a  inomeut  a^ralnst  the  roiu-urrciit 
(cstununy  of  his  ctinti.'m|X)rarie3,   both  to  iiis  tm]ierifms   triiijM-r 
and  to  the  fre([uency  with  which  he  yielded   to  it.      Mr.  iMaSMi'v 
himinlfj    in  another  pascaf^e,   quolea  an  ra:ceetlinply  pertinent 
illuittrHtion  of  his  Grace's  character.     *Si>me  insight  is  afforded 
into  the  dietjitorial  arrogance  of  his  temper  by  an  anecdot*?   un- 
coiistioufcly  relateii  by  tlic  bioa;rapher  mul   eulogi&l  ui  the  lioust^ 
of  iiussell.     The   Duke  hail   sttpiilntcil,   as  a   conditioii    of    his 
tidfing  ofiioe,  that  Ihitc  should  not  in  any  way  Ix!  consulted  upon   H 
public  jdraii-s.      He  could    do  no  leas;    but,  accortliug   to  Mr.  ™ 
VViifen,  his  Grace  consideral  it  an  iniraction  of  this  compact 
that  Huti!  should   ha%'e  come  to  town   in  tlie  spring  of  17t!5,  ami 
Laken  his  place  in    the   House  of  Lonls.      A  political   rival,  witli 
whom,  it  is  Ut  Im>  rrmemlMTed,  ih-dfonl  h:ul  himself  uiinost  u]i  to 
that  |KTiod  iiat   in  C'abinet  C'ouiicil,  was  not  only  to  l>e  removud 
irom   power,  but  altogether  secluded   fnim   public   life,  like  the 
disgraced  courtier  of  a  medieval  despnu'  t    And  why  Mr.  Masscy   ^ 
should  stigmatise  Burke's  report  of  his  insolence  to  the  King  ttl   H 
ihis  interview  as  exhibiting  'sumewliat  uf  the    facile  i-redulity    ^ 
of   a    vulgar   |K>litie^-il   op|>Dnent,*   we  eAUmit  understand.      This 
insolence  was    the    talk    of    the  town  ;    while   the  geiwral   rlia- 
ractcr  of  the   Duke,   as  depicted  in  almost  all   otiicr    mcmoin 
of  this    period,   is   sach  as   to   pcrsiuide   us   that   there   is   no 
intrinsic   improljability   in   the    language    impoterl  to    him.      In   ^J 
the   Chatluim   Corre^pimdrnee,    in    LonI   Hervev's   ^(etnoirs,   in    ^M 
the  Ruekingliam  (Jorri-sjiniiilLniri!,  in  Lonl  Chi-sterficlil's  Letlrrs,  < 

and  in  Laily  ilrr^py's,  we  find  detieriptiuus  of  his   conduct  and 
dntmcter,    at   differeni   periods    of  liia   career,   uniformly  niw 


'  mmarf  ofEBgltvd,'  vol.  L  p.  UA. 


t  IMd.,  p.  Ul. 

favourablfl. 


Modern  PoUticai  Memmrt, 


favourable*  His  vcxatinus  ri\*8lry  with  Ncwcartlr,  in  1750; 
bis  iDtriiEues  to  drivi*  out  Lonl  Shrlburne  in  17GG  ;  his  intri^tin» 
lagBinst  the  Duke  of  GraXtiHi  but  a  short  time  after tnutls— all 
'IohI  to  confirm  the  timlitional  fstiraate  of  his  rhAractiT,  and 
lo  discredit  the  apologv  of  his  descendant.  Lady  Hervev  says 
of  him  widi  true  jemininc  Tcbemence,  *be  has  so  juflgroent — 
great  heat — obstinate  wrungheadednei*  and  is  the  tool  of  fa- 
voDrites.'  This  last  a^st^nion  bUq  is  ooofirmed  hy  Junius,  who 
says,  *  I  will  not  pretend  to  specify  the  secret  t/nns  on  which  you 
wero  inrited  to  support  an  adtninistralion  which  Lottl  linte  pre- 
ttintled  to  leave  in  full  possession  of  their  ministerial  authority, 
and  pcrfectlv  masters  of  themselves.  He  was  not  of  a  temper  to 
relinquish  p<»wcr,  though  he  retired  from  employment,  otipu- 
IntioRs  were  certainly  mn<le  between  your  Grace  and  him,  and 
certainly  vinlated.  After  two  years'  submission,  you  thtniphl 
yini  had  cullecteil  a  strength  sufficient  to  control  his  influence, 
and  that  it  was  roar  turn  to  be  a  tyrant  because  yon  had  been  a 
•Utc.' 

\Vc  have  entered  on  these  particulars  merely  in  pursuit  of 
the  litfrmrv  oliject  set  before  us.  Wn  havp  given  the  case  of 
tlie  Duke  of  Il^^tlfonl  as  an  illustration  of  our  stnlement  that 
private  [political  mcmfdrs  do  not,  as  a  nile^  ovcrthmw  the  po|>ular 
traditional  estimate  ui  our  public  men,  and  that  the  favourable 
represeatations  of  friends  must  be  received  with  as  much  cautiun 
as  the  hostile  criticism  of  oppinenls. 

In  like  manner  the  popular  estimate  of  L«>rd  Cluitham  is  fully 
confinnml  by  all  tlir  familv  papers  which  relate  tn  tlic  period 
when  he  fluurishril.  His  romtnandin^'  eloquence  and  wtvc  of 
character,  his  lofty  modes  of  thought  and  action,  in  {mvaie  lilie 
verging  upon  b<imbast,  but  in  public  and  at  a  distance  so  im- 
pMiing  and  so  <Inzzling  that  all  the  instruments  oi  his  policy 
iK-came  aiiiniatitl  will)  tiiesame  spirit :  his  rxtraonlinary  rgntism, 
kud  still  uturt-  oxtmonliturv  ri*serve  ;  this  singular  mixture  ni 
strenL''th  and  weakness,  uf  pride  aud  vanity,  is  reicoltxl  lo  us 
tlirnugh  the  whole  of  these  memoirs  in  the  cli-arcst  aud  most 
unvarying  colours.  It  c«n  hardly,  however,  have  escaped  the 
student  of  Lonl  Chatham's  irra,  that,  for  so  eminent  a  man,  he 
took  a  vcr>'  brief  port  in  the  adroinistmtiiHi  of  public  afiairs. 
This  circumstance  is  to  some  extent  explained  bv  his  embar- 
rassing^  connexion  with  the  Orenvillcs  ;  while  during  his  dosii^ 
years  his  miml  was  probaHv  disordered.  But  another  view  of 
Ltird  Chatham's  clmrader  is  faintly  indicated  in  the  varioas 
mcmoiia  of  the  period,  which,  though  not  in  any  way  ronflirting 


Sm  alto  th«  Vox  Comfpoulaoe,  voL  it  ^  «& 


I 
I 

i 


with 


4 


Modem  PoHtiaU  Afemotrs. 


3r>3 


wit])  Oie  popular  pstimatc,  ]iiigbt  fxplnin  tlip  IntUT  linlf  of  liis 
career  more  clearly-  tliaii  Ii.is  yet  buen  ilon«.  It  has  somrtiinf-s 
oc<;urre<l  to  us  that  im  doincslic  politics  Lord  Clinthnm  was  more 
or  Irss  at  sea.  With  regard  to  the  proper  mode*  of  *  carrying  on 
tlie  King's  fjovrriirafnt'  h«T  serms  mil  to  have  made  up  his  mind, 
as  wc  find  hlui  at  one  time  telling  the  Kinjf  that  he  eouht  n<)t 
conduct  his  governmrnt  without  the  help  of  the  Kcvi>hitioii  fami- 
lies, and  at  another  dedaring  from  his  place  in  Uie  House  of 
Lords  that  he  defied  un  insolent  oligarchy.  Statesmen  who 
went  to  take  coimwl  with  him  compiaiDC<l  tliat  he  eoutd  not 
rensim  ronsecut i vely  for  five  minutes  together,  but  oreiipied  the 
whole  time  with  vague  and  stilled  declamation,  *  Shall  we  t^e 
thought  to  offer  an  un)iardonabIe  insult  to  the  memory  of  die 
great  Lord  Chatham,  if  we  venture  to  suggest  that  he  might 
po&nbly  have  had  nothing  to  say  ?  The  fact  is,  he  pine<l  for  his 
old  ascendancy  when  the  circumstances  which  maintained  it  had 
ilrpartinl.  In  a  pcr!<Ml  of  profound  peace  he  siglied  for  the  au- 
thority of  dictator.  He  coidd  not  give  his  mini)  to  the  oHinary 
detitilsof  businrssor  the  ordinary  management  of  p-irties.  I  leliad 
never  ar<|mred  the  kind  of  knowledge  which  these  ihities  demand  ; 
nnd  when  his  advice  was  sought  by  men  of  one-tenth  of  his  genius, 
liut  of  superior  cajwc-ity  for  administration,  he  was  naturally  per- 
plexed ami  angry,  and  took  refuge  either  in  total  seclusion  or 
elw*  in  those  lueaninglfss  Imrangurs  of  which  his  visitors  ri>m- 
plain<<d.  We  say  that  this  view  of  Lord  Chatham's  character 
,is  dimly  shadowed  out  in  some  of  the  memtiirs  wc  have  men- 
tioncii ;  but  it  supplements,  it  does  not  contradict,  tlie  common 
estimate  of  his  jjtiwers,  and  is  therefi)rc  no  exceptitm  to  the 
gtmenil  rule. 

We  must  say  the  same  of  the  Diary  and  Corresponilence  of 
Lord  Auckland.  The  I^lshop  of  Bath  and  Wells  has  not  effected 
any  sul.>stuntiul  change  in  our  estimate  of  his  father's  character 
derivi-d  from  ilie  testimony  of  his  eon  temporaries.  Tlie  Bishop 
iilMerves  tliat  Lonl  Auckland  cannot,  as  sup^Kiscd  by  Lord 
Malmesbury,  have  joined  with  Lonl  Loughborough  in  prepos- 
sessing the  Royal  mind  against  Mr.  Pitt's  measure  of  Catholic 
llelief,  lx«-ause  on  the  3Ut  January,  1801,  he  wrote  a  letter  in 
which  he  implied  that  he  had  but  just  learnt  Mr.  Pitt's  resolu- 
tion, mill  prayed  him  to  reconsider  it.  But  it  seems  to  ns  tliat 
no  argument  can  tx^  foundetl  upon  this  letter.  It  is  rpiite  p<is- 
sible  tlrnt  Lord  Auckland  may  have  acted  as  alleged  witltout 
desiring  Mr.  I'ltt's  downfall ;  and  the  letter  in  (]uestion  is  hy  no 
means  to  Iw  read  without  Mr.  I*itt's  answer,  which  has  \wfa 
pulilishetl  by  the  ni<ihnp  himself,  and  which  is  i-onclusive,  if  not 
lis  to  Lonl  Aurklnnd's  conduclf  at  least  as  tu  tltc  view  which  Mr. 

Pitt 


364  Modem  PeHHeal  Memein. 

Pitt  took  of  it  Indeed,  Lord  Auckland's  ulence  nnder  so  cutting 
a  reproof  is  noticed  by  Mr.  Rose  in  his  Diary  as  showing  that 
lie  was  cxinscioiu  of  baring  deserved  it*  Bat  the  Bishop  of  Bath 
and  Wells  really  has  done  something  towards  clearing  the  repu- 
tation of  Lord  Loughborongh.  It  was  believed  by  many,  up  to 
the  publication  of  his  recent  volomes,  that  a  paper  found  among 
the  Kosslyn  MSS.,  beii^  a  written  opinion  on  the  Catholic 
claims  delivered  to  the  King  in  1795,  was  the  work  of  Lord 
Loughborough.  The  writer  of  it  asserts  that  any  farther  relaxa- 
tion of  the  laws  against  Romanists  would  be  a  violation  of  the 
Coronation  Oath.  The  existence  of  this  paper  was  never  revealed 
to  Mr.  Pitt  Lord  Loughborough  himself  affected,  in  the  me- 
sence  of  his  colleagues,  no  disinclination  to  see  a  Relief  Bill 
brought  forward.  We  do  not  wonder,  therefore,  at  the  tone  in 
which  Lord  Stanhope  speaks  of  this  document,  which  was  first 
brought  to  light  by  Lord  CampbelL  The  Bishop,  however, 
adduces  several   good  reastms  for   believing  that  the  paper  in 

2aestion  was  the  work  not  of  Lord  Looghborough,  but  of  Lord 
lare,  whose  letters  to  Mr.  Beresford  contiun  the  same  ail- 
ments in  very  similar  language.  It  is  something,  no  doubt, 
to  have  dispelled  this  one  shadow  from  the  name  of  Lord 
Loughborough  ;  but  we  cannot  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  the 
opinion  of  him  handed  down  by  his  contemporaries  has  been 
greatly  modified  by  the  discovery.  And  before  quitting  the 
subject,  we  must  remind  the  Bishop  that  he  has  committed,  in 
pleading  for  Lord  Loughborough,  exactly  the  same  mistake 
as  he  has  done  in  the  case  of  Lord  Auckland.  He  tells  us  that 
Rose's  Diary  contains  a  complete  explanation  of  Lord  Lough- 
borough's conduct  But  this  explanation  is  merely  recorded  by 
Rose  as  the  statement  of  Lord  Loughborough  himself. 

TTiere  are  points,  no  doubt,  on  which  public  opinion  has  been 
modified  by  tne  contents  of  these  various  publications ;  but,  as 
we  have  already  sud,  they  rather  serve  to  fill  in  details  than  affect 
the  broad  outlines  of  character.  It  is  necessary*  to  state  this  fact 
very  plainly,  because  the  world  is  apt  to  anticipate  much  more 
from  the  posthumous  papers  of  eminent  men  than  they  arc 
generally  able  to  afford.  Information  of  this  nature  oozes  nut  by 
degrees,  and  our  opinions  of  men  become  pretty  well  moulded 
into  the  shape  which  tliey  are  destined  to  preserve  before  the  men 
themselves  are  dead. 

•  TTie  Bishop  states  that  the  editor  of  Roee.  »ho  has  read  iho  unpuMisheil 
coireEpocdence  between  K(«e  and  I^rd  AoclilaiKU  considers  that  it  is  not  tme 
that  Lords  I>ou<;hboroiigb  and  Aackland  prodoMd  the  btvach  belvetn  the  Kin;; 
antl  Mr.  I*itt.  Hot  of  what  veight  m  Am*-  wnlM'i  ofinioD  on  aij  sohjcct  ?  ajid 
vhere  is  the  cnrrespoodenw  ? 

No 


MotUm  PoHHcal  3fcmoirs, 


No  doubt  tKc  cstiinatc  of  certain  jjfrcat  ministers  has  latterly  iin- 
ilrrgronc  a  cliangp,  but  this  is  owing,  in  one  or  two  instances  only, 
to  the  rontcnts  i»f  political  mrmoirs.  The  public  cstini«t<»  of  Lorcl , 
Castlnrpajwh  has  rism  consitleiably  since  the  publication  of  hisj 
despatrlies.  Thr-  rommon  opinion  of  Pitt's  private  character, 
founded  on  the  libcU  and  caricatures  of  which  a  man  so  f?minent 
must  always  be  ihc  subject,  has  been  greatly  modified  by  tlic 
Memoirs  o(  Lady  Hester  Stanhope,  by  Lord  Wellcsley,  by  Wil- 
bcrforce,  and,  finally,  by  his  latest  biographer,  L^nl  St.-inlio|>e, 
WrajmU's  portraituro  of  Pitt  has  been  quite  blotted  out  by  these] 
aolhorities.  According  to  Sir  Nathaniel,  Pitt  cared  for  notliing] 
but  politics,  and  buried  himself  at  Walmcr  Caatle  in  1801, 
gnawing  bis  heart  with  vexation  at  his  loss  of  power,  indifferent  to 
all  country  pleasures,  and  intent  on  nothing  but  how  soonest  to 
grt  back  to  Downing  Street.  What  is  the  truth  ?  Pitt  was  of  a 
most  jiiyiius  disposition,  delighting  in  literary  recreations,*  and 
passionately  fond  of  hunting,  shooiing,  and  farming.  Hn  took  a 
farm  near  VValmcr,  to  which  he  and  Lady  Hester  used  often  to 
resort  fur  luncheon ;  and  his  niece  was  fond  of  relating  in  after 
years  wliat  hunches  of  bread-and-chccsc  and  bread-and-butter 
she  liad  sr^n  Lini  devour  on  these  occasions.  His  own  letters 
are  full  of  rural  topics:  they  contain  frctjuimt  allusions  tii  his 
panridgo-shooting,  and  show  plainly  that  he  took  as  much 
iiit<>re$t  in  manoeuvring  his  corps  of  Volunteers  and  in8|>octing 
his  Cinque  Ports  harbours.  ^  ft  our  estimate  of  the  man  from 
a  public  point  of  view  has  undergone  but  little  change,  altlmugb 
wc  see  more  and  more  clearly  from  each  successive  publiiratinn 
the  unequalled  loftiness  of  liis  character, 

'Ilic  diameter  of  Canning  Iuli  been  affettctl  in  htflh  its 
public  and  its  private  aspf-ct  by  thr>  ti^nor  of  our  recent 
memoirs;  and  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  injuriously.  All  the 
memoirs  which  have  proceedml  from  an  ultra-Torv  point  of 
view,  all  which  liave  proceeded  from  a  purely  Whig  jMjint 
of  view,  and  even  the  Buckingham  ^lemoirs — which  ought 
to  have  done  justice  to  one  who  bntved  the  jealousy  ol  mcdio- 
ciiiics  out  of  pure  admiration  for  Lird  Grenville— arc  veined 
with  ill-concealcd  dislike  of  him.  Strange  to  say,  even  Lndy 
Hester  Stanhope  is  violent  in  abuse  of  her  uncle's  protrgti 
and  chanipiim.  Alnmst  the  only  iniblicntJuns  which  arc  favour- 
able to  him  in  detail  an-  llio  VV4dleslcy  Correspundcnce  and 
Lf)rd  Staidiopt-'s  '  Life  of  Mr.  Pitt :'  though,  by  the  way,  it 
is  tiie  biographer  of  Lord  Eldun  who  has  drawn  what  is,  in  our 


'  ^-fi  '  Lord  WuUcAle>'6  Lvttor  lo  ike  Kditnr  oT  ibo 
,'Q,  U.'  vol.  tvii.  II.  488. 


■QuRrtcrijr  Kofiew.'" 
opinion. 


opinion,  tlu;  rmesL  jxirLmit  of  liiin  cxUiiU*  With  these  twn 
cxcfiptions,  tlie  [jenorftl  tone  is  against  bim.  He  took  a  com- 
paratively indejicndent  line  after  Mr.  Pitt's  death,  aitd  he  was 
not  strong  enough  in  pro]wrty  or  connexions  to  support  an 
iiHlfixmdrnt  line.  He  clnimt'd  to  be  the  legitimate!  inheritor 
iif  Pitt's  polity,  and  a  certain  v\nss  of  great  persoung<-'»  grew 
tired  of  the  name  of  Mr.  Pitt.  Ho  made  many  personal 
enemies  by  his  unhrldlcd  sarcasm,  and  caily  in  his  carver' 
he  alienated  the  most  )»werful  section  of  his  own  party 
l)y  abuse  of  Mr.  Addington.  Wltcn  Pitt  died.  Canning- 
found  bimsclf  in  mueh  the  same  position  as  that  of  Mrs. 
Hawdon  Crawley  in  tlie  Maniuis  of  Steyne'a  drawintf-mom, 
TV'hen  she  had  to  face  the  ladies  by  herself;  and,  though  he 
struggled  witli  his  difliculties  gallantly  to  the  end  of  Ida  days,  he 
never  thoroughly  oycrcame  them.  All  this  wc  see  clearly  cnotigb 
in  these  memoirs;  but,  un/nrtunately  for  Canning,  it  lias  hern 
tht*  interest  of  no  one  in  particular  to  set  the  world  right  on  those 
points;  ami  thn  result  is,  that  he  is  one  nf  tlic  very  few  great 
statesmen  of  the  last  lunwlred  years  whoa^  rfpntation  is  lower  at 
thn  presoiit  day  than  at  the  hour  of  his  death.  Canning,  then,  is 
a  fair  exivjuioii  to  our  rvde :  the  publication  of  'Political  Ale-' 
moil's'  has  af\'(H'lfi\  his  memory — tliat  is  tii  say,  it  has  bn>ught  tn 
light  and  hung  imt  Iw'fore  tlu*  piihlir  gaze  a  thousand  jietty 
passions  of  whirh  Mr.  Canning;  was  the  ohjert;  while,  as  he  Idt 
l)ebind  him  neither  Diary  nor  Biography  of  his  own,  the  tusk  of] 
defending  him,  even  where  heartily  undertaken,  lias  proved  more 
than  usually  ilifTicMilL  Tliis  is  nut  the  place  I'or  entering  uixm 
an  elaborate  exiiniiuHtion  ol  his  climnrtrr.  Simie  fiittin*  jiassngrs 
of  our  article  will  involve  a  partial  vimiicalion  of  it  It  is  snffi- ^j 
cirntfor  the  present  to  point  out  that  the  concuiTonce  uf  testimoQj^| 
against  him  is  fnr  mon-  distinctly  trai-coble  to  jwrsonal  grounds ^^ 
tliari  the  imputations  on  t}ie  Duke  of  Bedford  or  Lord  Auckland. 
The  traditionni,  unwritten  estimate  of  Mr.  Fox  Is  afrertcd  Ity 
those  'Political  Memoirs'  in  only  one  point.  It  has  been  cus- 
tomary to  associate  witli  his  name  that  kind  of  magnanimous 
generosity  for  which  men  of  tlisslpnted  and  profuse  habits  too 
easily  acquirr  the  reputation.  The  old  story  of  bis  lying  on 
Uie  rug  buried  in  Henxtotus,  juiit  aflnr  he  Imd  been  niinnl  at 
the  gaming-table,  has  hatl  a  great  effect  upon  the  public.  It  is, 
we  must  confess,  a  very  telling  situatii>n ;  but  (as  we  have  had  hI 
(K-(iisiiin  (o  f)hs<.'rve  in  preWuus  articles)  his  own  letters  &how  ^| 
him  In  have  bwn  ni-tthi;r  sn  grnenttis  nor  so  magnanimous  as  it 
has  been  the  fashion  to  siipjMiw  him.  Our  n-aders  may  remember 
that  in  ItjO*!,  on  Mr.  AdtUngtnn's  resignation,  an  attempt  was  mule  \ 

•  Tvus'3  *  Utf  at  Lord  Eldon,'  wtA.  Hi. 


4 


Moderu  Potiliaal  Menufirs.   ' 


367 


itU  Pitt  and  Lord  Gi 


\\\i 


"to  reunite  the  old  Ton,-  party,  witu  I'ltt  ana  i-ord  orenvilie  in 
their  olil  places,  ("Jrpnvillo  in  the  mraii  time  had  fonnnl  a 
c\mti  alliaiire  with  Mr.  Fux,  and  refus«l  to  take  office  unless 
the  lutter  was  admitted  to  tbo  C-iLbinet.  This  George  111.  M-as 
equally  resolved  that  he  shoulit  not  be;  and  then  it  vas  that 
Fox  U  rrportftl  in  linve  declared  that  he  would  be  no  oljstacle 
to  on  arratigcuiL'tit ;  that  he  was  too  old  tri  rare  lor  office  him- 
self;  and  *  tliat  he  hit|»ed  his  frirnds  would  join  Mr.  Pitt,  and 
that  ilr.  Pitt  Would  fuul  places  fur  ihcm.'  This  hns  alwavs 
been  spoken  oi  as  very  generous  and  noble-minded  coudutt.  As 
such,  it  aerved  Lord  Grenville  with  an  excellent  pretext  for 
fle<cliniDg  the  overtures  of  Pitt.  He  must  stand  by  so  generous  a 
friend,  even  though  tliat  friend  set  him  free.  But  Mr.  Fox's  srll- 
denying  declarations,  as  his  adhcrtmts  well  knew,  were  not  to  lie 
taken  au  pied  de  la  lettre.  About  a  year  later  he  maJc  a  very 
similar  profession  in  the  House  of  Commons  : — 

*  I  fod  myself  Eure,'  he  said,*  *  that  an  adnumstratioa  fonned  to  com- 
prehend all  that  is  rospect«hlo  fur  i-ank,  falcuts,  elmraoter,  and  iuflu- 
ctioe  in  the  enuotry  aflurdH  tho  only  eliauce  of  safety ;  and  I  trast  thitt 
nobody  can  Buppose  that  any  individual  (howoTcr  ha  may  disapprove, 
M  I  ourtainly  do,  the  UQcoDt^titutioQal  principle  of  exclusion)  would 
Boflbr  any  pereoual  amliitiou,  if  aiubitiou  ho  had,  to  stand  in  the  way 
of  the  fotmatioD  of  such  a  ministry/ 

This  ftoumis  very  magnanimous:  but  ivc  ftml  him,  tlirec  days 
afterwarfis,  a<ldre8siu}!:  to  Mr.  O'Brien,  a  partisan  writer,  the 
following;  explanation : — 

*  I  nevi^r  mcnnt  to  admit  (nor  do  the  words  at  all  ecnvoy  such  * 
meaning)  Uiat  auch  a  miuiflb'y  could  be  made  without  my  liaTing  a, 
principal,  or  perhaps  thi"  principal  sharo  iu  it,  or  that  it  could  bo 
formed  at  all  without  Pitt's  coming  down  from  his  situation  at  the 
Tmasury,  and  in  &ct,  conaidering  t£o  proBont  ministry  as  aQnihitateil, 
ID  which  coso  all  such  xwrsons  as  I  ollnded  to  might  be  considted  oa 
the  formation  of  a  new  one.'  f 

This  (rum  the  man  who,  a  year  before,  was  too  old  to  care  for 
office !  It  is,  indeed,  abundantly  clear  from  his  correspoudcucc 
tliat  he  never  dreamed  of  entering  the  Cabinet  except  upon  terras 
of  official  equality  with  Pitt,  and  with  a  First  I-onl  of  the  Treasury 
of  his  own  nomination.^  Another  little  fact  also,  reronlcHl  by 
Lord  Colchester,  u|K)n  tlie  authority  of  Addiugton,  clearly  proves^ 
if  tnte,  that  Fox  was  really  anxious  for  place.  In  June,  1803, 
and  February,  IttlH,  A<iiJington  rweivcd  overtures  from  Mr.  Fox 
for  joining  him,  but  put  tlteni  aside  ;§  yet  in  his  correspondent  c 


■  JuncSOtb,  1805;  ' Fox's  Sperchci,*  Tol.  TK  p. fi20.     Ed.  1815. 

t  '  CcirrcspoDdenco,'  vol.  it.  p.  8D,  *  Ihid.,  f p.  IH,  9(^  1  H> 

$  Col.,  vol.  i.  p.  529. 

Vol.  112.— A'^.  2?4.  2  n 


of 


Modem  Political  Memoirs. 


of  Marcli,  1804,  Fox  sixmks  of  tlie  plcasxire  it  will  give  liiin 
hunt  ilnvfii  this  vile  fellow.'* 

We  Iia\'e   now    notici^d  the  chief  iastmnces    in    which    thcsp 
disclosures  have  caused  any  tnodificatloQ  of  our  judgment  on 
the   character  of  public   men.     On    the  whole   tbey   are    boc 
important ;  and,  with  the  exceptions  which  we  hare  noticed,  we 
do     i\*A    find    OUT    previous    conceptions    of    public    characCcn 
fundninentallj    oHecbMl.      Taken   simply,    however,  as    illustJlb- 
tions  and  cimfinnatiims  of  generally  acknowledged   rstimaloti 
the   traits  of  character  and  private  purposes  in    which    theae 
volumes   abound   are    hiphly    interesting-.       Perhaps   the    m 
curious    instance    wc    can    g'ive    is    tlic   spectacle   which    the 
present    of  the    immobility    nf    tlie    Orenville   chnrncter,    er* 
to  the  third  feneration.     In   17G5    and   a4^in    in    17l)6    Lo 
Temple  would  not  join  Lord  Chatham  because  he  was  aimi 
at  the  re-establishment  of  the  Grenvillc  Ministry.     From  180 
to   1804   his  nejihew.    Lord    Grt^nville,  was,    if  wc  nuiy  iN-lict'i 
Lnri)  Maliiicsburv — ami   it   i&  tlie  only  ratioiuil  hyjM}thesis  u 
whiuh   to  explain  his  conduct — working  covertly  for  the  sani 
end.     He  hod  an  idea,  says  Lord  Matmesbury,  that  the  Marqut 
of  Buckingham  would  make  an  excellent  Prime  Minister.     \Vi 
have  not  observed  tliat  this  desipi  is  imjmlcd  to  htm  in  any  othcs, 
■of  the  political  memoirs  of  the  day  ;  but  it  is  quite  in  ncconlaoi 
with  tlie  character  which  titey  all  bestow  ou  him,  and  is,  as  W 
have  said,  the  simplest  explanation  of  his  conduct  at  the  {leri 
in   oucation.     Again,   in  1827,  Lord  Grcnnllc's  own  ncjphew,- 
tbe  Duke  of  Buckingham,  tried  his  utmost  to  make  use  of  the 
jniiiisterial  crisis  for  the  same  purpose.     His  motions  for  thii 
«ml,  which  are  reliited   with   the  utmost  nalcete  in  the  pages  of 
the  now ly-publt shed  Olarv,  arc  rertninlv  among  the  most  curious 
disclosures  which  have  as  yet  been  presi-nlcd  to  us.     We  shall 
refer  to  the  Diary  again  in  the  course  of  this  article  far  its  aid 
in  clearing  up  a  very  complex  political  transactitm ;   but   simply 
as  a  sprcimrn  of  character,  and  of  a  character  so  complrlely  in 
harmony  with  the  general  behaviour  of  the   same   family  for 
nearly  seventy  years,  it  is  invaluable. 

Tlie  characters  of  individual  statesmen  are  so  closetv  inter* 
wovea  with  the  transactions  in  which  thriv  have  taken  part, 
that  whatever  elucidates  the  one  may  be  expected  to  throw 
light  upon  the  other.  Accordingly,  iu  the  foregoing  i>nges,  in 
Trbich  we  have  been  confining  ourselves  osteasiblv  to  cbatmo 
ter,  wc  have  anticiixited  much  which  belongs  property  to 
events  ;  and,  conversciv,  in  the  examination  of  events  wc  shall 


.'  '  Fox  CnreipondcnM^'  vol.  W.  p.  31. 


oIlcD 


Modem  Politieai  Memoirs. 


369 


often  find  ourtclvcs  gliding  into  tbc  discussion  of  characters. 
ITjerf  nre  wjiiio  transactions,  however,  which  wlmit  of  being 
considered,  if  not  without  reference  to  the  character  of  the  actors, 
yet  without  tlirse  forming  the  prominent  object  of  attention. 
Suclj,  for  instance,  is  the  disagreement  between  Fox  and  Lord 
Shelbumc  under  the  second  administration  of  Lord  Rockingham. 
Fox  was  Foreign  Sccrctarj- ;  Shclburnc,  Home  and  Odonial 
Secrptnrv ;  and  it  is  usually  stated  that  Fox  totik  umbrage  at 
Shellrarne  for  sending  agents  of  his  own  to  Paris  during  the 
negotiatifln  of  tlie  peace  witii  Amprica  without  first  consulting 
him.  Sbelburne,  as  (.'olonial  S-nrctar}',  conceired  himself  to 
be  interested  in  a  nrgotiation  with  tbc  rcToIted  colonies, 
which  hnd  in  fact  r«Jinmcnced  with  a  letter  to  himBrlf  frtma 
Dr.  Franklin  ;  whilr  Fox,  on  the  other  hantl,  was  treating  not 
directly  witli  ihf  colonies,  but  «itli  tht?  F'renrh  I-'oreign  Office, 
on  their  l>chalf ;  and,  as  we  may  learn  from  bis  Correspondence,* 
he  CDclcavoured  to  exclude  Shelbume,  no  less  than  Sbelburne^ 
acconltng  to  his  own  view,  endeavoured  to  htNtdwlnk  him.  'XTie 
distrihulioii  of  business  !K?twcH?n  the  two  Ofilces  would  almost 
inevitably  lead  to  itiisuiKlenitiimling,  unless  Uine  existwl  entire 
confidence  JK-tween  the  ministers  who  held  them  ;  and  after  all  it 
is  oidy  probable  that  Shelbume  entertained  tbc  same  distrust  of 
Foi  as  Foreign  Minister  as  was  entertained  by  Ix>rd  Grenville 
many  years  afterwards :  for  we  are  informed  in  the  '  Courts  and 
Cabinets  of  George  III.,^  t  diat  during  bis  bvief  administration 
in  lbO*j,  in  which  Fox  was  Foreign  Secretary,  it  was  considered 
doubtful  whetlier  he  reaped  any  advantages  from  his  co-operation, 
beyond  his  popularity. 

So  again  in  1793,  when  the  onion  with  the  Whigs  was  on  the 
tapis,  Mr.  Pitt  has  incurre*!  censure  for  not  at  once  giving  Fox 
the  Foreign  Ofliee.  But  his  real  reason  for  not  doing  so  is  pre- 
»er\*ed  in  the  Mahnesbury  Correspondence,  though  Lord  Russell 
has  thought  fit  to  orerlook  it.  'It  would  ap|war  to  our  allies,' 
be  saitl,  ^  as  if  a  change  of  foreign  jxiliey  were  in  contemplathm.' 

tit  most  assuredly  would  have  done.  Vet  this  simple  and 
sibic  explanation  has  been  teconlc<l  by  no  one  but  Lord 
Malmesbury.  In  the  same  memoirs  we  find  a  statement  which, 
roupled  with  the  story  wo  have  alluded  to  regarding  Lords  ,\uclc- 
land  ami  Loughborough,  explains  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Pitt  in 
18l>l  mon?  rlearlv  Oian  anv  other  ihcMrv,  He  is  rejitirtetl  to  have 
told  Cauniii;;  that  it  was  not  the  King's  mere  oppositiijn  to  the 
Roman  Catholic  liill  wtach  caused  his  resignation,  but  tbc 
inamicr  in  which  it  was  concerted ;  clearly  implying  by  his 


*  Td.  i.  p.  M3  sqft. 


2b2 


t  Vol.  It.  p.  as. 


words 


vioids  thnt  it  was  the  secret  influence  of  unarknowledgcd  advt 
a^inst  which  he  was  prutcstiiig,  and  not  a  mere  opinion  of  the 
Kiiig'ti.     This  story  in  so  thorouglily  consistent  with  rumoar^ 
which  are  audible  more  or  less  distinctly  in  half  the  nienioirs  ii 
the  period,  to  say  nothing  of  the  direct  shajx;  iu  which  they 
clothed   b}'  Lord  AralmGshury,  thai   its  truth  is  scarcely  to 
doubted.     Rut  what  a  cUmd  of  miitconccptions  is  removed  by 
these  Tew  words,  and  what  a  light  they  shctl  upon  the  conduct' 
of  the  King,  George  MI.,  who,  fir^t  driven  to  act  in  this  manner 
at  Ids  accession  to  the  throne,  now  reciuTe*!  to  it  in  a  difftruhy 
where  really  it  was   wholly   stiperfluotis.     Similarly  we  undei 
stand  Lord  Grcnville's  refusal  to  act  without  Fox  in  1804  qui' 
plainly  as  soon  as  we  are  reminded  that  he  was  only  carryi 
out  the  regular  tictii-s  of  his  fnmilv.      WHiat  his  nnch-  hail  dnnc 
in  17G6,  and  his  nephew   was  Ut  ilo  iu  1837,  tlinl  he  too  was 
doinfc  in    1B04.     'Lord  Grenville/  says   MaJmesbury,  *  thinks 
the  Marquis  of  Buckingham  would  inuke  as  good  &  Prime 
Minister  as  nnvboily,' 

The  estrangement  of  the  Wliigs  from  the  Prince  Uejjent  after 
181 1  is  another  of  our  ]H)1  itteul  nivsterics  which  has  been 
variously  interpreted  according  to  the  connexions  of  the  intei- 
preter.  We  sometimes  wonder  that  n  brief  remark  attributed  to 
•Sheridan,  which  is  to  be  found  in  so  common  a  book  as  'Moore's 
Life  of  Sheridan,'  has  not  been  more  frequently  quoted.  The 
quarrel,  as  our  readers  will  remember,  was  on  the  subject  of  th 
Regency.  The  I*rince  of  Wales  wanted  the  Whig  precedeu' 
of  1788  to  be  followctl  exactly.  But  Lord  Grenville.  who  was 
m>w  amon|>:  the  Whigs,  Imd  at  that  time  figure«l  among  the 
Tories,  and  vigorously  supported  the  original  pnipositions  of  Mr.  ^1 
Pitt  'The  Whig  doctrine,'  says  Sheridan,  snejiking  of  1811,^| 
*was  sarrificed  to  preserve  the  consistency  of  Lord  Orenvillff^^ 
— that  was  the  first  fruits  of  the  Coalition  of  180fi.'  We  see  at 
unce  how  natural  it  was  tltat  veteran  Whigs  who  rememberetl 
the  battle  of  1788  should  see  the  thing  in  this  light,  and  that  the 
Prince  himsL-lf  should  feel  aggrieved  at  the  old  doctrine  bein| 
nbandone<)  in  deference  to  »  converted  Tory. 

After  the  death  of  Mr.  Fox  no  name  is  so  pi-ominent  in  English 
politics  for  many  years  as  that  of  Canning,      He  was,  to  judgi? 
lirom  these  memoirs,  the  source  of  more  embarraiisments  than  nnv 
other  statesman  in  our  umtals.     For  nefirly  a  (|uarter  of  a  century, 
whenever  we  see  a  ilifficulty  in  the  Cabinet,  we  arc  almost  su 
to  Ije  informeil   that  Canning  is  at  the  bottom  of  it.      Wo  hav 
already  adverted  to  the  manner  in  which  the  reputation  of  ihi 
statesman  has  been  affected   by  the  publication  of  the  potilits^ 
memoirs  of  rivals  or  of  enemies.     But  there  arc  two  transactions 


I 

i 


Modern  Political  Memoirs, 


371 


of  bis  life  in  which  thcv  bare  done  him  f^ood  service,  namely, 
his  quarrel  with  hoxd  Ca&tterragh  and  (he  formation  of  his  own 
ministry.  Of  the  former  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  what  Castle- 
rciiffh  crtrnplnint-*!  of  nppcnni  to  linve  bci.*n  irally  the  faull  of  the 
Duke  of  Portland  and  Lord  Camden,  nnd  nol  uf  Canning;,  But 
uith  reg;ard  to  thr;  latlcr,  tlic  recently  published  Diary  of  the 
first  Duke  of  Buckiugham  contains  a  most  curious  statement.* 
Before  leaving  England  on  a  Continrntal  tour,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  full  of  personal  hopes  and  aspirations,  sought  nn 
interview  with  Oenrge  IV.  This  was  in  the  mouth  nf  July,  1?27, 
and  His  Majesty  then  gave  him  a  full  account  of  all  that  bad 
taken  place  in  the  precedinjr  Aprils  when  it  liccamo  neressar\" 
to  find  a  successor  to  Lord  Liverpool.  It  would  be  foreign  to  our 
present  purpose  to  invej^tigate  the  subject  at  any  length.  But  our 
readers  may  remrinber  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  pfwitively 
denied  in  the  House  of  Lords  that  the  King  had  ever  asked  him 
to  be  Premier.  George  IV.  assured  the  Duko  of  Buckingham 
that  he  had  pressed  this  post  upon  tlic  Duke.  But  what  is,  if 
possible,  still  more  slrani;;?,  is  tliat  the  King  <listinrUv  admitted 
that  he  liimself  had  nominuteO  Ciuiuiug ;  that  be  had  hixn  driven 
to  tliis  step  by  tlie  beliaviour  of  Peel  and  VVellijlgtun,  which 
resembled  only  the  dog  in  thcmant^er;  that  it  was  thev  who  bad 
forced  Canning  upon  him,  and  not  Canning  himself.  It  is  true 
ihiit  the  Duke  of  Buckingliain,  with  ebaracteristic  caution, 
reposes  no  implicit  faith  in  bis  Sovereign's  veracity.  But  it  !& 
dilficult  to  understand  what  motive  the  King  could  have  had 
for  deceiving  htm ;  and  it  is  difficult  also  to  understand  why  he 
should  have  preferred  Mr.  Canning,  unless  he  had  sullered  pn> 
vocation.  In  Wcllinglun's  correspondence  with  Canning  on  this 
subject,  we  can  delect  traces  of  distrust;  and  hi*  may  po&siblv 
have  betrayed  some  irritation  in  the  King's  presence.  But  that 
is  comjmmtivelv  Ixiside  the  mark.  Did  iho  King  offer  him  tho 
Treasury?  and  did  the  behaviour  of  himself  and  Mr.  Peel  drive 
the  King  int<)  Canning's  arms?  According  to  the  Buckingham 
Diary  we  must  answer  both  thesn  qu<rstions  in  tlie  afHrmative. 
Vet  this  answer  iiivnlvi^s  a  slur  U|»oii  the  character  of  Wellington, 
which,  after  liis  own  express  public  statement,  which  would 
certainly,  if  iiuiccuratc,  have  U^en  at;  once  contradicted,  we 
cannot  for  a  moment  think  jjossiljle.  Here  especially,  then,  is 
seen  the  nerd  of  a  careful  and  conscientious  editor.  We 
xloubt  how  far  it  is  conducive  to  the  cause  of  truth  to  publish 
these  statements  to  the  world  without  a  syllable  of  comment  or 


*  *  Privstv  mury  of  Richsn)  Uoke  of  Uackinghuii  ■nJ  CbanJoa '  (ISSS),  vol.  t. 
€sp,i. 

explanation. 


Modem  Politiad  Memoirs, 


explamttlon.     M'e   cannot,  however,  complnin  of  iuiy  want 
imiinrtiality  in  llie   editor  of  this  Diary;  f"r  reH«-tioa»  uf  tb«j 
Duke  i»f  Hiirkingham  liimsplf.  which  positivL-ly  invite   miscon- 
atruclion,  have  been  left  «s  thev  were,  written  down  without  anr 
of  those  qualifying'  remarks  which  ibottid  in  fairness  have  been 
applied  tii  them.  ^J 

Tiic  mi'initnuida  (if  Sir  Rittiert  Peel  c-ontain  a  niriuus  uitiniatjaa^^| 
that  the  days  are  poiie  by  when  a  political  leailer  could  influcnoe        i 
his  party  by  consultation.      *  I'ormerlv,'  said  hr,  *a  minister  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  iiscertntn  the  disposition  of  u  f<.-w  leading 
personaircii,    and   if  tlioy  wnit    with  him   his   success    was    cer- 
tain.    But  If  I   had  attempte<l  to  take  the  Conservalire    porty^^ 
into  my  confidence  oniceininjr  the  rej>eal   of  the  com    laws,  it  ^^ 
would  have  ensured  the  defeat  of  that  measure.'     IfSirRobrrt 
Peel  «as  right,  then  this  passage  becomes  at  once  the  locus  ehssi^ 
eia  on  the  subject,  as  showing  at  what  jwint  the  chaiipc  intro- 
duced  by  the  Reform  Bill  first  took  efTcct  practicjiUv.     VVIu-lher 
he  was  ripht  or  wron^  is  anorliiT  question;  but  if  he  was  right, 
the  repeal  of  the  corn  laws  is  a  landmark  not  only  in  our  econo- 
mical lint  also  in  our  constitutional  history. 

We  have  said  that  the  loosenrss  with  which  party  connexion» 
were  n^inlird  Jn  former  davs  no  less  than  in  the  present,  is  one 
of  llie  points  brought  home  tn  us  by  n  study  of  thew*  memulnL 
Party,  in  fart,  is  so  artificial  an  institution,  that  the  flood  of  self- 
interest  is  always  straining  its  barriers.  The  experience  of  the 
Inst  hundred  years  seems  to  teach  us  that  rigidity  in  niaintninin^i 
polititnl  ironnexions  is  iheexception  ratbertimn  thenile.  A  stronp] 
minister  makes  ronverts  often  by  his  on-n  moml  weight  j  uft«ner 
by  tlie  tedium  of  oppt>siti»tn.  'ITie  eiiatence  of  a  weak  ministry 
commonly  denotes  that  Parliament  is  divided  into  three  parties, 
of  \\hieli  wc  mny  be  pretty  sure  that  two  will  make  ottempts  to 
act  tngetlmr.  Tlic  vigorous  y^)vennncnt  of  Pitt  diirw  numeruns 
young  men  from  his  opjwwiL-nts,  The  feeble  government  of  I 
Addington  showed  that  half  the  Whig  leaders  were  ready  on 
terms  to  join  the  Tories.  Fox  offercti  to  go  over ;  Shcridmi 
and  Krskine  all  but  went ;  Ticmey  went.  Others,  judging  le» 
truly  that  a  Whig  restoration  was  at  band,  (juitted  the  Tories 
for  the  Whigs;  andamonglhesiMvere  the  Grenvillcs,  Addinijion 
himself,  who  joinwl  the  VVhIg  ministry  of  1806,  was  actuated 
pi?rhnps  by  other  motives;  and  it  is  conjectured  by  Mr.  Twin 
that  he  diil  u\  at  the  King's  command,  and  in  his  capacity  of 
*  King's  friend.'  At  the  same  time  it  is  clear  that  he  gavp  great 
offence  to  the  Tories,  for  we  find  in  I*lumpr  Wanl's  Diary, 
that  Lonl  Loiudale  threateueil  ia  deprive  Mr.  l'crc»!val  uf  his 
seat  if  he  united  with    Lord  Sidm<mth.      The  reunion   of  the 


4 


Grcnviik^^ 


Modent  PoiUiaU  Memoirs, 


878 


GrciiTiUc*  with  the  Tories  in  1819,  imd  the  support  of  Mr. 
Conning  by  the  VVhi^s  in  1827,  may  be  rited  as  proofs  that 
tKL>  g^eat  coiifiuiion  of  parties  which  has  prcvailcil  nl*  late  yi-ars  is 
not.  ]H-culiar  to  this  epoch.  There  is  a  certain  class  of  nu-n  ia 
poUtifTS  whu  can  only  hold  out  a  certain  time :  even  if  thev  <U>  not 
want  place,  they  do  not  like  the  irksf>mene$$  of  ain'ars  bctm^ing 
to  the  minority.  To  read  every  morning'  in  the  newspapers  the 
same  distortion  of  one^s  principles,  and  the  same  defaniatton 
of  one's  party ;  tut  Itear  every  eveninjr  in  die  world  the  same 
mockery  of  one's  hopes,  and  afTcttetl  wonder  at  one's  bliiulness ; 
to  experience  this  from  ilay  to  day,  antl  from  year  to  year,  is  no 
doubt  a  severe  trial.  There  are  public  men  of  the  present  day 
whom  sheer  dii^ist  at  this  position  has  driven  into  the  nnns  of 
die  LilMTals ;  to  (ind  out,  perliaps,  when  it  is  too  late,  that  they 
had  better  have  waited  rather  loiii^r.     But  so  it  ia — 

' ut  nsfliduA  naxa  eiivautiur  atpiu ;' 


the  perpetual  dropping  of  cold  water  upon  all  they  either  say, 
think,  ur  do,  is  more  tlian  many  men  can  bear.  They  ^ivc 
in,  anil  hence  the  origin  of  more  tergiversation  and  treachery 
than  ifi  to  \tc-  found  in  mere  material  selfishness. 

The  mistaken  calculations  nf  the  old  race  of  stitesmen  with 
regard  to  tlie  duration  of  ministries,  and  their  blindness  to  the 
inJlucncc  of  opinion,  are  well  itlustmted  by  the  tone  of  all  the 
Whig  memoirs  during  die  Athlingtim,  Pi>rtl.ind,  and  PiTro%al 
ailniintalmtions.  We  are  coiitlnuallv  being  told  it  is  imiii»ssible 
tiiat  Addin;;ton  ran  tftand  ;  that  Portland  is  doomed  ;  that  Perceval 
must  strengthen  himself  or  go.  Indeed  this  kind  of  vaticination 
was  of  fre<|acnt  recurrence  throughout  Lord  Liverpours  odniinis- 
tmtion:  vet  during  the  whole  of  this  time  ministers  hiul  large 
majorities  iu  tlic  House  of  Commons,  and  clearly  jxissessed  the 
confidence  of  the  countrv.  At  everv  genend  election  the  same 
roajority  was  returned ;  and  not  one  of  the  ministers  aforesaid 
really  left  his  post  in  consequence  of  Parliamentary  weakness. 
It  is  often  said  diat  Addington  did  so;  y^t  ^ns,  who  seems  on 
this  point  to  have  been  wiser  than  his  cotlpng-ues,  was  in  the 
habit  of  saying  tli.it  .Addington's  ministry  was  the  most  popular 
one  since  the  King's  accession.*  'lliis  opinion  is  in  perfect  har- 
mony with,  his  own  ofler  to  coalesce,  anil  lends  additional  weight 
to  the  arguments  employed  by  LonI  Stanhope  to  show  Uiat  Pitt 
cnuhl  not  have  fonvil  Fox  U]H>n  the  King  in  1804,  even  if  Im 
had  tried  :  for  that  he  still  had  Addingtun  tu  fall  back  upon,  with 
an  assuretl  Parliamentary  majority,  though  not  quite  so  large  as 


374 


Modern  Pe/h'tteai  Manoirs. 


in 

m 


bail  been  usual.  Tbere  were  in  those  d.irs  no  means  of  wwyhii 
tboi  subtle  social  force  of  public  upitiiuii  with  wbicb  we  are  no 
so  lauiitinr.  Rut  for  all  tliiy  it  rxisled  in  j;reat  strenplh  thrnuy' 
out  llie  rei^n  of  George  III.,  and  manv  a.  \Vlii(»  stntesmnn  iiiic 
Itavc  been  saved  Irom  bitter  (lisapp«)intnieiit,  could  be  only  hnv 
divined  iu  import. 

TT»c  mistakes  of  editors  have  been  tolerably  well  illustmtcd  in 
the  rourse  of  our  preceding  remarks.  But  we  rannot  warn  o 
readers  too  strong^ly  ng-ainst  this  fertile  source  oi  error.  N 
man  is  justified  in  undcrtakinj;  the  duties  of  an  e<litor  w 
is  unwilling  to  ;a^o  tlirough  the  labour  of  completely  mastering? 
his  subject.  Omissions,  indeed,  arc  sometimes  so  marked,  that 
but  for  the  character  of  the  writers  concerned,  we  mifflit  suppnso, 
them  to  he  intentinnal.  'I*ht're  are  statements  aUmt  I'ox  in  l^itx| 
Mnlmcshury's  I)iar\',  which  Lonl  llussell,  in  editinp  tlie  l*o 
Correspondence,  has  entirely  omitted  to  notice,  though  they  thro 
mucli  lifiht  on  his  behaviour.  He  lias,  as  we  have  said,  adopt 
Horace  \Vnl|>i>li-*s  vcn<imous  nbtise  of  tlie  Tiuita,  while  he  tree 
as  unwiirthy  of  serious  (tmsidenition  cvory  wmil  he  says  agni 
the  Whigs.  This  particular  piece  of  injustice  is  not  so  dang^eroi 
as  some,  because  Walpole  is  in  most  men's  hands,  and  t 
inconsistency  of  which  his  Lordship  has  Ix'cn  (fuilty  en 
hardly  fail  to  arrest  their  notice.  Hut  there  are  many  nlitorial 
delinijueueies  against  which  it  is  imjMtssible  to  be  un  one' 
guard.  Kxplaiiatory  notes  are  only  part  of  an  editor's  labour  i 
publications  of  this  class.  A  far  more  important  one  is  the  se< 
HoK  of  pn]>crs  to  be  printed.  If  he  err  in  this  so  as  to  convey 
one-sided  impression  of  either  events  or  persons,  he  has  done 
wrong  more  difTicult  to  be  repaired  than  the  mistake  of  a  y 
or  two  in  a  statesmnn''s  tenure  of  office,  or  in  the  list  of  posts' 
whirli  he  has  filled.  Vet  wc  occasionally  find  that  a  letter  i 
printed,  while  the  reply,  which  would  have  quali5ed  or  entirely 
destroyeil  its  cfTcct,  is  withheld.  VVhat  can  be  worse  than  this? 
Sfimetimra,  again,  an  editor  takr-S  upon  himself  to  state  the' 
purport  of  letters  which  he  has  liMjketl  at,  but  manifestly 
understood,  keeping  Imrk  tlie  dotuments  theniselves  ;  and  ptljti 
constantly  forget,  both  in  their  treatment  of  the  text  which  thejj 
arc  editing,  and  in  the  illustrative  jntormntinn  which  they  draVi 
from  other  souicc-Si,  the  difrorence  betweim  charges  which  Iw 
l>ecn  made  to  a  man's  face,  and  the  idle  gossip  which,  cmbndi 
iu  private  letters  bra  {lolitjcal  rival  in  a  moment  of  spleen,  a 
dragged  ti>  light  and  jiaradcd  n%  history,  alter  the  means  of 
rnntradicting  it  have  perishetl  ;  blackening,  perhaps,  the  memory 
of  one  who  never  even  suspected  that  such  imputations  had  been 
made  against  him> 


Modgra  Political  Memoirs. 


575 


The  mliior  of  U<»sc's  Diary  lias  been  instrumental— not, 
til  ink,  ili'sigiindly — in    circulating   nut   a    ft>w  serious    niiscon^j 
copUons,     Among;  nmnv  stabs  at  the  iripmory  of  Canning  ot-cui 
thf    foUowiug: — Speaking  of  the  ^ear  ISOG,   he  saj's,  'rcadii 
Mr.  Canning's  letter  at  tlic  beginning  of  this  year,  and  seeinp 
litiw   rtmtiy   he  was    to    tlrscrt  liia  rcilours,   nobody  can   be  sur- 
jirised   at   finding  him    before   the    end   of  it  again    in   office/* 
Ai-TW    here   Is    I>oth   a  misrcprc&cntatinu  of   prtnriph^    and   A: 
misstatement  of  fact.     The  ministry  in  office  at  this  time   was) 
Lord    Grcnvillc's.      The   followers  of  the    late  Mr.  I'ilt,   with) 
oiw  or   two  exceptions   (of  whom  George  Rose  was  one),  had' 
b.-uid«l  together  to  keep  the  Greiivillitc  section  of  the  Cabinet 
in   Pitt's  fmitsteps,  and  to  help   Lord   Grenville  in  forcing  this 
policy  upon  Fox.     Had  it  been  thouglit  conducive  to  tliis  end 
that  one  or  more  of  them  should  even   take  ofHce  under  Lonl 
Grenville,  such  a  step  would  nut  have  been  desertion  of  prlncipli^] 
liut   tlio  truest  ami    most   disinterested  supjwrt    of  it.      But  ih*^ 
truth  is  that  ('anning  did  nof  take  ofiice  before  (he  year  was  out. 
The    (irenville    ministry   was  ilismissed    in  March,   1807,  ant! 
Mr.  Canning  never  held  office  umler  Grenville.     He  ncitlier  did 
what  he  is  said  to  have  done,  nor,  if  ho  had  done  it,  would  he  have 
sinned  as  hn   is  siiid  to  linvc    sinneil.     Mr,    Harcourt  draws  » 
totally  erroneous  infrrcuce  from  a  circumstance  which  never  took 
place.      Vet  it  is  !n  this  fashion  that  the  diameters  of  our  publ! 
men  are  jxirmitteil  to  be  blundercil  away  I 

We  entirely  acquit  L<)rd  Colchester  of  doing  any  intentional 
injustice  to  the  memory  of  Lonl  KIdon,  But  we  cannot  help 
.saying  that  a  note  was  rc({uircil  at  jxige  529  of  his  first  volume, 
where  the  sentiments  of  Mr.  Addingtoit  towards  Lord  KIdon  in 
reference  to  the  part  played  by  the  latter  in  the  events  preceding 
Mr.  Pitt's  return  to  power  arc  described  without  comment.  Lord 
Stanhope  refers  to  tliis  question  in  his  'Life  of  Pitt,"  and  re- 
minding his  readers  iliat  both  Dean  Pellew,  the  biographer  of 
Lord  tijidmouth,  and  also  Lord  Brougham,  have  bitterly  re- 
proached Lord  Eldon  for  his  share  in  this  transaction,  quotes  a 
letter  from  Lord  Grenville  to  the  Marquis  of  Buckingham, 
which  completely  rebut*  the  imputation,  Tlie  letter  is  lo  l»e 
found  in  the  *  Courts  and  Cabinets  of  George  Itl.,'  which  was 
published  in  1657,  anti  was  then-lore  accessible  to  Lord  Ccdrhester, 
whosi!  work  has  ap|>earcd  subscqucntty.  To  explain  what  we 
mean,  wo  quote  a  few  lines  &om  the  last-mentioned  diary.  The 
date  is  October,  1804. 

'  In  Uaroh  last  tho  Chuoellor  had  t  titt~iiMie  dinner  with  Mr, 


37(5 


Modem  Political  Memoirs. 


4 


Pitt,  of  wliich  Lo  acquaiutwl  SEr.  AdtUngtou  a  mimtL  aftemtrds ;  flod 
after  "SLt.  AtliltitgtoD  had  resolveJ  tiptm  his  iiwd  rtrwignitli'Ti  in  <ddor 
to  give  tho  King  a  froer  choico  of  a  Miuuitrj,  tho  Chuioollor  deliTcred 
to  the  Eng  a  letter  from  Mr.  Pitt,  in  whidi  there  were  cxprtuAwA 
itijuriunfi  to  llTr.  AiltlingtoTi.  Affuiust  thia  prorocdiDg  Mr.  AddingtoQ 
Tomoimtratcd  with  tho  ChauceUtJi*  on  tho  niglit  beforo  tho  new  MiniBtry 
was  fonuod ;  and  told  him  at  a  cahiDoi  meeting  that  to  bare  done  w 
htu  nnponluiiahle.* 

It  ap[)ear3  even  from  Mr.  Addington's  statetnent  that  iht* 
Icttpr  was  not  (li-Uvrrwl  until  aftci"  Mr.  Addintftoo  ba<]  re- 
solved upon  his  own  res i ^'tuition  ;  but  what  tbt*  edJlor  shookl 
Itavu  here  added  is,  tliat  the  Chancellor  did  not  present  the 
letter  to  the  King  until  after  he  had  been  requested  hy  him 
at  Mr.  Addinffton's  own  sutfgestxon  to  ascertain  the  view*  of 
Mr.  Pitt.  When  Mr,  Pitt  communicalcd  these  viows  to 
Lord  Eldon  for  transmission  to  the  King',  was  he  to  rpfuac  to 
deliver  them  because  thev  were  uufavourable  to  Mr.  Ad(lin<rtoa? 
The  sup|H>5ition  Is  absurd.  Pitt's  Icttc^r  is  perhaps  too  stronglj' 
worded,  but  that  was  no  fault  of  Lord  Eldon. 

Other  comimrativeiy  trifling   instances   may  be  adduc^l,  to 
sbow  that  Lord  Colchester  lins  nnt    eonsultrd  titiite  as  carefully 
as  he  ought  to  have  done  the  ctin temporary  memciirs  uf  the  time. 
At  pas:e  100,  for  inst-incc,  of  the  second  volume,  he  prints  some 
stiong  expressions  employed  by  I^rd  ^idmouth  apainst  Canning 
immediately  before  the  resignation  of  the  Grenvilir  Ministry; 
but  he  has  failed  t*>  notice  that  in  a  letter  written  by  LunI  Eldon  ^^ 
to  bis  brother,*  only  one  fortniglit  later,  it  is  stated  tliat  l\w  M*hole^H 
body  of  Pittites  had   resolved   to  sup|Kirt  Mr.  Ciuminj  in  iht^H 
diflercnce  between  him  and  Ixird  Siduiouth.     Lord  Eldon  is  Dot 
a  very  willing  witness,  so  that  the  assertion  is  probably  quite 
tnie ;  while  the  fact  shows  that  ihere  was  a  large  number  nf  able 
and  honourable  men  who  entertained  a  view  of  Mr,  Cntining's 
conduct  \'astly  different  from  Loitl  Sidmoutb.     Again,  at  pa^j 
32it,    in    referring'  to  the    debate    which  took  place  on   Mr.] 
Homers   Rullion   Committee,    we    merely    fin*!  the   names 
the   speakers    given.      It    would    have    been    worth    Lord    Col- ' 
Chester's  while  to  baii-e  looked  at  Horner's  own  account  of  this 
debotc,  where  wc   find  that  Canning  aprike  with  eitraordinary 
ofTcet,  surprising  Homer  by  tlie  eajsy  mastery  which  be  dispbiyetii 
over  all  the  subtleties  of  the  subject,  as  well  as  by  bis  jxiwer  ofl 
clothing  solid  argument  and  sound  technical  knowleilge  in  liTcU 
and  brilliant  diction.      Horner  was  especially  capable  of  apprt*- 
ciating  this  talent ;  others,   unfortunately,  are  too  apt  ti)   supjM>sc 
that  deep  waters  never  sparkle,  and  that  i-l>etoric  and  lojfic  are 


*  Twiu's '  Uf»  of  ElOou,'  iL.  p.  SOl 


never 


Modern  Potitieal  Memoirs. 


377 


neror  to  be  found  toother.     Horner's  testimony  »s  the  more  inte* 
resting,  because  it  has  aU^avs  struck  us  that  tbis  peculiar  c-din- 1 
bination  was  Canniug's  distinguishing  excellence.     He  coutbinetl 
more  clearness  of  expusiiion  with  inorc  splendour  of  atylv  tbaai 
any  Kntjlish  statt-'sman  of  his  day.     He  could  make  n  speech,  j 
upon  buUiun  berth  *  as  interesting  as  a  Persian  tale  '  and  as  busi- 
m«8-likc  as  a  banker's  book. 

We  might  (juote  innumerable  examples  of  this  class  of  over- 
sights ;  but  we  have  given  enough  to  make  our  readers  understand 
oar  meaning,  and  they  must  judge  for  themselves  of  the  intrinsic 
value  of  such  errors.  One  point,  however,  is  quite  clear, — that, 
in  onler  to  avoid  them,  editors  of  such  pipers  must  go  through 
ii'gTcat  deal  of  patient  labour.  We  have  given  our  readers  s>rjme 
idm  of  tlic  dimensions  attained  already  by  this  branch  of  Uti> 
ratare  ;  but  it  trannot  be  es|>erted^  nor,  indeed,  is  it  desirable,  that 
it  should  stop  where  i(  now  is;  for  the  system  being  once  set  in 
motion,  our  only  security  for  tnitli  is  in  having  as  many  different 
specimens  as  possible,  although  we  hope  such  papers  will  in 
future  be  more  carefully  \?ecded.  Daring  the  next  twenty  years 
it  is  hnnlly  to  be-  doubted  but  that  a  long  succession  of  memoirs 
will  be  gradually  unfolded  in  illustration  of  the  last  twenty.  The 
Buhop  of  Bath  and  Wells  has  remarked,  with  equal  forct-  and 
truth,  in  the  preface  to  bis  publieatiuu,  that  '  whi>evtr  reads  tJie 
history  of  the  past  aright,  or  accurately  observes  the  motives  and 
actions  of  the  men  of  his  own  time,  must  be  aware  Imw  Inigi*  a 
deduction  uught  tu  be  made  from  the  imputations  cast  ujMm 
public  meu  by  ihejr  contempi>rartes  writing  or  sjjeakiiig  under 
the  influence  of  partv-spirit  or  personal  animosity',  and  probably 
with  very  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  circumstonces  and  moiivei 
of  tlieir  adver!>aries.'  It  is  manifest  that  no  editor  ut'  political 
memoirs  can  do  full  justice  to  his  subject,  or  avoid  the  liability 
of  grievously  misleading  the  world,  witbout  collating  nt  least  as 
many  kindred  works  ns  we  have  here  enumerated.  Otherwi.se, 
be  is  mci-cly  the  agent  in  publishing  to  the  world  at  Urge  the 
opinions  of  »  particular  individual,  which  derive  their  chief  value 
from  the  al>sence  of  intent  to  publish,  and  otf  rec<jrd<tl  without 
any  of  lliat  circumspprtion  nr  reserve  which  Is  necessary  to  a 
}>ublic  statement.  What,  therefore,  the  diariA  hss  left  undone, 
it  is  the  business  of  the  editor  to  supply, — to  verify  mere  rumours, 
compare  different  authorities,  contrast  predictions  with  events, 
while  making  due  allowance  for  the  jios&ions  and  intrrests  uf  the 
writer.  Against  nn^eiving  any  nicinoim,  which  lack  such  edi- 
torial BU]M-rv!sioti,  as  trustworthy  autliuritics  on  past  history, 
we  once  uiore  caution  all  our  readers.  Taken  in  the  mass,  they 
ooDtain  much  genuine  ore,   but  it  can  only  be  separated  intm 

the 


378 


Modern  Political  Memmn. 


t 


the  dross  by  tltc  care  of  nnc  who  is  canscicnttnus  enough  tn 
perform  his  work  thoroughl}*.  The  process  will  doubilosa  be 
lonjj  and  irksome ;  but  it  is  too  obvious  to  contpiiil  for^  that  if 
these  memoirs  nre  to  l)e  utilized  fur  purposes  of  histurj',  it  must 
J>c  carcftillj  nnil  exhnustivt'ly  pcrformf*!. 

VVr  rannot  concludf  witliuut  railing  uttnitlon  to  the  singalar 
contnist  which  continually  presents  itself  to  ns,  in  the  jwrusal  of  ^ 
political  memoirs,  between  the  raw  materials  and  the  fmishnl 
product  of  parliameiitar}'  g«%'eniment.  The  middle-agwl  well- 
rouged  frmalr,  in  shurt  prttiLt>nts,  driiiltin^  a  \toi  of  pitrlor  Iwhiild  ^m 
the  scenes,  is  nut  more  dilfcrpiil  fnim  the  beautiful  and  buujruit^H 
creature  who  bi>und8  upon  the  stage  as  Columbine,  than  is  the  ^* 
statesman  as  he  appears  in  history  from  the  stnie:>in:in  as  he 
npprars  in  (irivatf  memoirs,  No  mm  could  rise  from  ttoyj 
h-n^henrd  study  of  lbi*se  volumes  witlioul  bcmg  conscif/us 
the  upjicrmost  inipiessjon  on  his  mind  was  one  of  littleness,  | 
selfishness,  and  dissimulation.  Vet  beneath  this  impression  lii^] 
cmbcddetl  the  old  belief  that  during  the  period  emhmreil  by 
them,  some  of  the  world's  greatest  men  mnve<l  upon  the  ttlagr  ofl 
Knglish  politics  and  gave  their  tone  to  the  books  we  have  been 
reading.  How  could  such  great  men  have  been  invohod  in 
such  small  doings?  and  which  are  we  to  take  as  the  right 
standard  of  measurement ;  tlie  f  pettiness  of  conduct  which 
depended  wholly  on  themselves,  or  tlie  greatness  of  results  in 
wliifli  tortune  and  the  blunders  of  op[ioncnt5  confessrdlv  had  a 
large  share?  Generally  speaking,  upon  p«jints  of  this  pa! 
tJif  world  agre«'s  to  a  kind  of  compromise,  'llie  grmtest 
men,  it  says,  will  be  found  to  have  a  weak  point  somewhere ; 
must  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  surprised,  or  to  cliange 
opinion  of  his  greatnesH,  Ix'cause  it  happen^  to  be  detecled.  We 
can  only  say  that  the  student  of  politienl  memoirs  must  hare 
recourse  to  this  compromise  very  often,  though  there  is  one  cot>> 
sidemtion  which  may  be  allowed  to  qualiiy  the  effect  of  such 
writings.  It  has  been  said  of  many  statesmen  that  they  were 
to  most  advantage  in  private  life — 

'  in  that  happier  hotur 
Of  social  plaosure,  ill  exchiujged  for  power.* 
But    in  the  diaries  and  correspondence  which  constitute 
tical  memoirs,  wr  see  them  neither  in  private  life  nor  public; 
We  soe  a  mixture  of  the  two.     \V'e    sec  public  afTairs  andi 
Ihe  process  of  private  arrangement;  and    it  is  just  at  such 
time  that  the   iicrsouaUtics  of  public  life,   the    selfishness, 
rivalries,  and  the  malice  rise  to  the  surface,  while  nobler 
deeper  springs  of  action  disappear  from   view.      We  must 
therefore,  accept  the  general   level  of  sentiment  raaintniaetl  in 

ihcie 


Wr 

mre 
cot>> 
such 


lUCl^l 


these  papers  for  tbo  tvhole  of  any  man's  war  of  thinkio^  opon 
state  traiisactirins.  \Vc  must  be  careful  also  of  mittakiug  tlic 
ttyle  in  which  grave  subjects  are  occasionnlly  tliscusscU  for  rral 
levity  or  indifleroncc  to  the  public  interests.  Piirtly,  perlinjis, 
owinff  lo  the  simplicity  of  the  English  cliaracter,  and  our  ten- 
dency to  keep  our  strongest  emotions  out  uf  sight,  \re  oiten 
find  the  tone  which  is  proper  to  a  man's  private  and  domestic 
concerns  im|M)rtrtl  into  the  discission  of  politipal  principles. 
Finally,  there  Is  the  ejcactly  opptisite  danger  to  be  guonlnl 
against, — tliat,  namel)',  of  imputing  to  aflicctation  or  insinccnrity 
the  use  of  a  loftier  phraseology  than  common,  which  by  men 
lony  accustomed  to  address  Parliament  on  great  questions  may 
often  bf*  I'niploycd  with  uneoniicitnisness.  In  a  won),  t»  irad 
political  memoirs  with  advantage,  we  must  Ik*  prcparc-rl  to  make 
many  allowances  and  to  give  ourselves  a  great  dL-al  of  trouble ; 
otherwise,  wc  are  in  danger  both  of  mistaking  the  drama  of 
history,  and  of  misjudging  the  statesmen  who  played  in  it. 


Art.  IV. — 1.  CompUmctit.  de  VCEuvre  fk  183(),  J^abiissement, 
dan»  let  Pays    TraitsatJaTUiques.     Avcnir  du   Cvmmerce  et  <fe 
riHtiuAlric  jiclfjr.     Bruxellca,  1860. 
3.  Uistvire  tht  Ci'mmercc  et  de  la  Marine  en  Beli/iqve, ,  Par 
Ernest  van  Biuy&scl.     Bruxellcs,  1K61. 

3.  A  Sketch  of  the  JJUton/  of  Flemish  Literature  and  its' Cele- 
brated Aui/ivrs.    By  Octave  Delcpierre,  LL.D.     London,  IHGO, 

4.  L'Aveiiir  Industrie!,  Cotitmercialy  et  Maritime  de  la  Belyufne^ 
Par  N.  A.  Henry,  Consul-General.      Druxelles. 

5.  Notes  tif  an  At/riculliiral  Tour  in  Behjium,  IJollatulj  and  the 
Bhiue.     By  Robert  Scott  Burn.      London,  1862. 

6.  La  Naiiunaiiti'  dc  la  Belf/ique  et  ses  Devoirs  au  Milieu  de  la 
Crise  Euroj}eenne.     Par  un  Patriote  Beige.      Bruxellrs,  18511, 

7.  La  JielffifjHC  Intlrpeiidante.     Par  Jmcph  Bunifncc    Bruxelies, 
iBIiO. 

8.  Richard  CvMen  Roi  des  Belqts.     Par  un  £x-Coloael  do  la 
Garde  Civique.     Bruxelles,  1862. 

U.  L'  Orffam»ati{/n  Pulifit/ne,  Judieiald  et  Administrative  de  lit 
Belt/itpie.      Bruxelles,  lS58. 

10.  Anil rtaire  de  f  Industrie  de  la  Belffe.     18G2. 

11.  RcfMis  btf  H.  M.  Secirtaries  of  ICmhassy  and  Legation  on  ih»  ^ 
Manufactures  and   Commerce   of  tfic   Cowiines    in   which  ilatf 
retidr.  No.  b.     18G2. 

ri'^HlRTY  Tt^TS  ago  the  name  of  Belgium  was  seldom  priK 
J_  nounced  without  nn  expnssjon  of  mingled  impatience  audi 
vexation  by  the   leading  statesmen  of  Kumpe.      It  had  just  Kue- 

cecdcd 


ccedrd  in  Diutrating,  by  a  siHklfoi  but  not  wholly  unexpecteid 
leioluUon.  oac-  of  the  most  important  arran^mrats  of  tlic  (jrcat 
Powers  for  the  Rdjustment  of  thr-  {wliticnl  balance.  Tliat  a 
people  which  possmed  nn  appreciable  weight  in  Europe  should 
nave  presamed  to  undo  the  work  of  the  oombinM  wisdom 
diplomaiists,  and  to  set  np  an  independ<^nce  of  its  nwn, 
oil  act  not  speedily  to  be  forpottcn  or  foreiven.  Not  that  Bel- 
gium cTer  wanted  titles  to  respect.  There  arc  few  regions  of 
equal  eitcnt  which  have  prmlucfd  men,  and  men's  works,  so 
Ttmarkabte;  burghers  who  treateil  with  monarchs  upon  equal 
trnns  ;  cities  far  surpassing  in  size  and  in  sj^endaur  the  capitals 
of  mighty  realms;  painters  of  the  highest  excellence;  statesmen 
and  historians.  But  all  this  seemed  to  hare  passed  away,  and 
we  thought  only  of  the  great  political  arrangement  which  looked 
K  well  on  the  map,  and  whicii  had  Ijeen  merthrnwn  by  o  more- 
ment  for  which  we  could  assign  no  adwjiuite  cause. 

The  success  iff  the  work  for  a  sennul  time  impniied  upoa 
the  Powers  of  Kurope  has  happily  proved  more  complete  tnan 
tlic  first ;  and  the  feeling  of  irritation  with  which  Belgium  was 
long  regarded  has  given  place  to  one  of  general  sympathy. 
To  England  it  has  long  presrntwl  an  olyect  of  intcrcsi ;  and  it 
can  iii'ver  fail  to  aUract  much  of  our  attention  on  account  nf  tts 
tradi^,  ite  (ftrm  of  gorcmment,  nnd  its  peculiar  politinti  rflations. 
The  industrial  character  of  Belgium  too  commands  our  highest 
admiration.  The  teeming  soil,  much  of  which  has  been  n- 
claimeH  from  wastes  almost  as  barren  as  the  sands  of  the  sea- 
shttrr,  displii\-s  rxnm|df'S  uf  tlie  must  finished  hu^lmndr}'  in 
EuiojM*.  lliL-  manufacturing  industry  of  the  counir)'  n-scmbles 
thftt  of  our  own.  A  constitutional  government,  presided  over  br 
n  Sovereign  to  whom  England  is  justly  attached  by  former  asso- 
ciations, and  who  is  intimately  related  to  our  own  Monarch, 
gives  to  tlie  industrial  and  social  condition  of  this  the  ymmgest 
of  Eurupeiiti  states  a  strong  claim  to  notice. 

Many  of  the  physical  jieculi^irities  of  Belgium  have  originated 
in  the  verr  singular  geological  changes  which  its  surCice  has  under- 
gone.  Like  Holland,  from  whicli  its  north-eastern  portion  is 
scarcely  distinguishable,  a  part  of  it  has  in  former  ages  snficnd 
from  a  series  of  cataclpms.  Thecoast  is  even  now  undergoings 
clmnge  similar  to  that  of  Scandinavia,  in  some  places  being  subject 
toa  slow  elev.nlIon,  in  others  to  a  gradual  depression.  From  Nien- 
port,  the  axis  of  this  change,  to  the  mouth  i»f  the  ISchcld,  the  wa 
is  inwosilily  but  regularly  gaining  uixm  ihe  land;  while  sf^uth- 
wanl,  to  Uu!  Pas  dc  Calais,  it  is  riicf^ding.  These  alterations  in 
tlic  coast  line  are  also  caused  ti>  some  extent  by  the  action  of  riven. 
Dejxisitions  of  mud  take  place  wherever  the  streams  arc  stagnant ; 

baoks 


! 


Bclqiittn. 


381 


innks  ai¥  ftirinctl  whit-Ii  gmtluallv  rise  aTmve  tlie  watpr-levcl ; 
the  cbannela  contiaue  their  ctiurse  throup-li  tliem,  and,  with  »ci\nf. 
artificial  aid,  there  is  at  icngth  established  a  pcniiaticnt  aixrrction 
to  the  land.  Thus  the  town  vf  Dainmc  once  poncsMMl  a  harbour, 
and  uuricd  on  an  extensive  maritime  tnuir ;  it  is  n»w  many 
miles^  inland,  and  there  is  sfart'i'lv  a  trace  of  its  fcirmer  c«n- 
ncxiun  with  the  st^.  The  tract  Itctween  Antwerp  and  NicuiMirt, 
although  now  dry  land,  and  supporting  a  hirge  popuhttion,  lias 
within  the  historical  peri*«l  been  covered  by  the  ocean.  This  region 
coosisled,  in  the  ttine  of  the  Romans,  of  woods^  marshes,  and 
peat-mosses,  pn>tectod  from  the  waves  by  a  chain  of  sandy  hills 
which  \vere  broken  through  br  storms  sunposeil  to  have  ocrurred 
during  the  fifth  century.*  The  sea  in  the  course  of  these  irrup- 
tions deixtsited  upon  the  peat  a  Iwd  of  fertile  clay  tnsome  places 
three  yards  thick,  full  of  recent  shells,  and  containing  pottery  and 
other  fragments  of  the  works  of  man.  The  inhabitants,  by  means 
of  embankments,  liave  succeetled  in  finally  securing  this  tract, 
wliich  is  now  one  of  the  most  productive  and  highly'  cultivated 
parts  of  Belgium. 

The  history  of  the  Low  Countries  contains  many  records  of 
inundations,  not  the  cffoct  of  storms  or  of  currents,  Imt  pro- 
Ijably  of  a  subsidence  of  the  land.  The  knf>wti  existence 
of  peat  at  a  considerable  depth  under  the  sea,  off  the  coast  of 
Uclgium,  conilnns  the  supposition  tliat  the  area  of  dry  land 
vnu  once  ver\'  much  more  considerable  than  it  now  is.  1'he 
movement  of  depression  seems  to  have  beim  from  south  to  north  ; 
for  Molland  has  lieen  much  more  subject  than  Ilelgiura  to  tliest; 
disasters.  The  streets  of  Calais  are  five  feet,  those  of  Gravelines 
and  Dunkirk  three  feet,  those  of  Ostend  only  one  foot,  aljovc 
higb-water  mark ;  whereas  those  of  Amsterdam  and  Rotterdnm 
are  very  considerably  below  it.t  The  whole  Flemish  coast  has, 
in  the  course  of  centuries,  lost  a  portion  of  its  maritime  Ijorder 
varying  from  one  to  two  leagues  in  hremllh. 

Such  variations  of  the  surface  level  of  the  Low  Countries,  ori- 
giiuting  doubtless  in  frec|uent  oscillations  of  chat  portion  of  the 
earth's  crust,  seem  to  have  been  of  periodical  occtirrence.  In 
the  year  1110  a  fearful  irruption  of  the  sea  covcrmI  n  large 
portion  of  the  Flemish  territory,  destroying  mimercius  villages, 
and  convoning  a  rich  and  cultivatpd  district  into  a  sandy 
waste.  The  population,  according  to  Van  Bruysso],  found  a 
refuge   in    England,   and    settled    in    North umlxrl and    on    the 


•  LtcU'i  '  PrinciplM  or  Geology.'  book  it,  ch.  S. 

t  *  Uittoire  du  Commvrw  ct  de  la  Msriae  «n  Bvlgique,*  pp.  1 1.  is. 


shores 


shores  of  tlie  Tweed ;  but  afterwards  removed  tu  Pembroke- 
shirt',  iiiid  fixod  themselves  in  the  uei^libourhocMl  of  Haver- 
fiiitlwe^t,  It  is  remarkable,  as  proving  the  sabterranean  origiu 
of  these  movemGitts,  that  ui  the  year  iu  wliich  these  great 
disturbances  of  level  occurred,  we  ate  informed  bv  English 
chroniclers  that  the  rivers  Trent,  Metlway,  and  Thames  nere 
grcutiv  affet^ted,  and  that  their  bftds  became  almost  dry.  Tho 
extent  (if  Inm)  >^hich  has  Urcn  permaiicntiv  flooded  by  the 
ocean  ia  Jrlolland  is  enormous.  The  Zuydcr  Zee  rolls  over  a 
submerged  tract  that  was  once  n  jwpulous  and  well-cultivated 
ptaio.  The  sea  would  hinj;  since  have  covered  Holloiul  and  a 
part  of  Hel^ium,  ImL  fur  tliat  vast  system  of  emlmiikments  and 
sluices  by  which  the  in^rseveriiig-  ingenuity  of  man  hag  '  set  bars 
and  dcKjrs  for  the  deep.'  During  the  prevalence  of  north-wcitcrly 
^ales  the  tide  at  Katwyk,  at  the  mnutli  of  the  Khin<*,  rises  eleven 
feet;  at  Leek,  nt'ar  \  iiuieii.  It  rises  seventeen  ft-et  above  the  Am- 
slerilani  level.  Holland  is  therefore  |>er|ietually  threatened  by 
iniuHlatlutis ;  and  unceasing  vigilance  is  necessary  to  avert  the 
most  terrible  catastrophes.  It  had  an  escape  in  lj|t26,  when  the  tea 
llowcd  into  Over  Ysscl,  Fricslaiid,  North  Brabant,  and  GueUler- 
land,  priMlucIng  a  dreadful  sense  of  inseeurity  in  the  minds  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  an  imjiression  that  Holland  might  any  day  sud- 
denly disappear  frum  the  face  of  the  earth.  Witli  all  its  precao- 
cions  against  tlie  sea,  Holland  can  scarcely  be  considered  securv. 
The  subsidence  of  large  portions  of  its  territory  in  comparatively 
recent  times,  as  well  as  at  remote  geological  epochs,  is  an  ascer* 
tained  fact;  and  if,  as  is  asserted,*  a  slow  movement  of  depres- 
sion may  be  detected  still  in  operation,  tlie  submeTgenee  ni  thi 
country  might  be  predicted  as  inevitable  within  a  given  time. 

Belgium  has  Ijeen  less  c3L|K>sed  than  Holland  to  these  visita- 
tions, but  it  has  sufferi'd  severely  frum  the  encroachment  of  the- 
sea.  An  arid  and  sandv  chamctcr  lias  tlius  been  irajmrtrd 
to  many  extensive  districts.  Violent  gurlogical  iliKlotralJoDs 
mtut  have  happened  in  remote  times.  The  strata  in  which 
some  coal  deposits  are  found  present  peculiarities  rarely  seen 
elsewhere.  Instead  of  being  ]ujrizonta1,  or  inclined,  they  are 
vertital ;  but  as  Belgium  presents  no  indication  whatever  of 
volcanic  action,  this  extraordinary  tilting  up  of  the  l>i><ls  must 
have  been  caused  by  a  sudden  subsidence  of  the  crust  of 
earth  long  after  the  deposition  in  lakes  or  estuaries  of  those' 
vast  masses  of  organised  mutter  of  which  coal  is  every  wb 
composeil. 


1 


Belgium, 


363 


I 
I 


Belgium  was  for  centuries  divided  into  a  number  of  ficls,  the 
cklefa  iif  whirh  rarried  »n  ]ierpctua1  war  with  each  other.  In 
tbe  fotirtli  and  fifth  centuries,  and  pridxthlv  Bt  a  later  |>eriod, 
its  coasts  wcie,  tike  those  of  Sauitliiiavia,  tlin  haunts  of  {>iratc8 
who  pa^ed  upon  such  trade  as  then  existed  in  those  Ultlc- 
visited  regiotw.  The  com  mere  lal  spirit,  nevertheless,  was 
early  developed.  It  was  fur  die  purposes  of  trade  that  the 
coasts  of  Britain  were  first  resorted  to.  In  the  reign  of  our 
Henry  11.  a  considerable  commerce  had  sprung  up  between  the 
Flemish  towns  and  England.  Manufacturing  enterprise  had 
then  established  itself  in  the  Netherlands,  but  it  was  entirelv 
dependent  upon  the  wool  of  £uglund  for  the  raw  material. 
In  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century  the  cloth  of  Flanders 
was  extensively  used  in  France  and  Germany.  It  had  long  be- 
come an  article  of  the  first  necessity  in  England,  the  whole 
population  bning  chithed  in  a  kind  of  serge,  manufactured 
in  Flandi'rs  c.i:pressly  fnr  the  English  market,*  In  return 
fur  the  productions  of  the  Flemish  luums,  the  exjxirts  of  Kiig- 
land,  besides  wool,  consisted  of  leather,  salted  provisions,  grain, 
and  cheese.  The  nM-oIutioiw  of  commerce  an?  as  striking 
as  the  rise  and  fiill  of  empires,  witli  wliicli^  indt^ed,  they  have 
an  intimate  connexion.     At  the  time  when  Flanders  was  sup- 

£  lying  Europe  with  all  the  textile  fabrics  which  it  required, 
lanchester  and  Leeds  were  country  villages,  Liverpool  was  a 
hamlet,  and  tlie  country  which  now  diffusfs  tin?  beautiful  and 
useful  priMtucts  of  its  innumerable  power-looms  over  Uie  wholt;  of 
tlie  inhabited  world,  |iossessed  nothing  wherewithal  to  purchase 
even  the  clutUing  that  it  needed,  but  the  fleeces  of  its  sheep,  the 
hides  of  its  oxen,  and  the  rude  produce  of  the  dairy  and  the 
farm. 

Tlie  Netherlands  in  the  fifteentli  and  sixteenth  centuries  mono- 
polised, as  is  well  known,  the  commerce  of  Europe.  Bruges 
was  the  great  mart  of  nations.  The  cause  of  tliis  remarkable 
arrangcmem  was  the  then  imperfect  state  of  navigation  and  die 
convenient  position  of  the  Low  Countries.  The  use  of  the 
mariner's  cum[iass  was  far  from  genirral,  and  merchant  sliips 
crept  timidly  ahwiff  tlie  coasts,  'i'he  Levant  trade,  the  most 
important  in  Europe,  passed  from  the  Black  Sea  through  tlie 
Kuttian  territories  to  the  Baltic ;  but  when  this  trade  Wgnn 
to  decline,  the  Crusades  having  oj>encd  a  new  channel  «)f  tom- 
munication  llirough  the  Mcdileriuneau  for  Indian  merchandise, 
the  Netherlands  natumllv  became  the  emporium  for  the  North 
ami  the  South.  The  Baltic  ports  were  frozen  over  in  winter, 
and  as  ships  could  not  in  that  age  accomplish  in  a  year  the 


•  Van  Bmynel,  p.  195. 
Vol.  112.— iVo.  824.  2  c 


long 


384 


Belffium. 


long  lojagc   from    the   Meditermnraii  to  tLo  itonny  coofU 
the  North  of  Euro|M>,  they  availix)  tliemselvct  of  a  conv?nu 
intermediate  porl.     PrjcvMcd  of  a  jrrcat  river  f«i  by  numlx"! 
less  trtbutiLH'   and    nuvignblc   streams   comniiiiiicnting   with    tH 
troiilini'nt  bcliind  and   tlie  ocean  in  fmnt,  uu  C4>ujitrv*  was  Im*I 
adap(«{l  for  conoentniting  the  commerce  of  tlic  world.     Sevi 
ol'  iho  principal  towns  in  the  X-ow  Coantrics  tbu»  became 
marts.     Kvery  commodity  of  Europe  and  Asia  wa«  to  hr  fuond 
in  them.     Thev  were  thronged  with   morchants   and   EjMH-uIatnra 
fnim  every  rr^icin.      Itnnkis  (Tuilds,  luul  Kn>aL  Li)r|Miratiuiifi  sjirang 
up  dx  the  nnxiHuiry  rirsults  i)f  accuuiulutinl  wealth.     lii-uges  aloue 
ceutaiiKii  iii'ttfii  liadiii^  f:uinpanies.      Antwerp  is  said    to  hartt 
transacted  more  business  in  a  mouth  than  Venice  id  the  hci(ft 
of  her  progjKrrity  in  two  years.     A  tourist  who  enters  lielgium 
the  Beheld  fiiulB  sume  difBc-ulty  in  Iwlieviug^  white  his  eye 
ujHin  its  broad  expanse,   that   tlie  noble  stream  once   bore  on 
b(j»)m  dailv  live  handred  ahips  which  cntcrctl  or  departed  with 
each  tide.     The  Scheld  was  then  what  tlie  Thames  is  now,  oud 
Antwerp  was,  ns   it  were,  a   Manchester  and  a   Liverpool   com- 
bined.    8omc  of  the  moral  features  of  Belgium  may  be  tmced 
to  its  long^  connexion  with  Spain  ;  for  tlie  bigotry  of  Hie  grvAt 
Catholic  Power  has  left  an  immistakeable  impreuion  upon 
population.     The  connexion  Iwtween  two  people  so  csseiitialll 
distinct  as  the  Spanish  and   the   Bclf^ians  was   an   unnatural  o» 
Almost    everything    that    was    peculiar    to     the    SjMini.ird    wi 
furei^Ti  t«>  the  Il^^lginn,  who,  contiguous  to  France  and  Germanyv' 
combined  the  pecntJaritics  of  botli.     Ikdgian  blixnl,  however,  bf^- 
came  intermixed  with  Bjianish  durinf;  the  long  union.   The  cauntx]^_ 
i:ontlnui>il  an  npjiendiige  of  Spain  for  a  buiulrofl  and    sereD^^| 
years  uftt^r  tlu*  Untied  Provinces  had  achieved  tltrir  tndnpendenrVt 
At  the  Peace  of  Utrecht  in  1713  thai  (>art  of  the  Low  Cuuntries 
now  known  as  Belgium  was  attached  to  the  Austrian  monurch}^H 
under  whose   dominion   it   coutbmed   fur   eighty   years.       lltf^l 
elTect   of  Austrian   ndc   upon   the  commercini    prosjierity  of  ila 
de|H.-ndeuey    was    moist    disostruus.       The    Scheld,    ouc    of 
great  highways  of  natitms,    hiul    been    closed   to  the  com  mere 
of  the  world  since  lt>48,  when  the  Dutcli,  in  that  monopolii 
and  narrow-minde<l  spirit  which  lias  so  often  chamcterised 
commcTcial  policy,  successfully  eicrtcd  their  iiiiluence  with  tfal 
Great    Powers  of  Europe   to   divert   the  exterior  imdc  vf  Gt 
many  to  their  own  wale-rs,  and  lo  slmt  up  one  of  the  mibh 
rivers  of  Europe,     Por  a  hundrctl  and  fifty  years  i¥»t  a  sail 
wvn  on  tho  majestic  stream  that  had  once  bomo  the  commt 
of  tlie  world,  except  that  of  an  occasional  Dutch  I»»mue  frriphl 

lotiini  pnxhii-e  for  the  market  of  Antwerp.     The  inrnrpo- 
If^ium  with  France  in  1795,  and  its  subsequent  anne 


Seiffiunu 


385 


tion  to  tbc  French  Rmpire  in  1811,  rogtorc<l  some  commprcukl 
activit}-  to  the  countr}'. 

Thr  objfct  of  the  Alltcil  Powers  at  the  ConpVM  of  Vit-nna,  in 
aniwxin^  thp  Austntin  Xethcrhinds  to  Hollnncl,  was  an  excellent 
one.  Thc^  inteiulcd  to  cunstitutu  a  statn  sudirientlv  puwerful 
to  afford  nc  least  a  temporary  check  to  P'nmch  oj^i^rpsitiod.  It 
was  for  tb#  interest  of  Europe  that  a  power  which  htul  never 
ceased  to  rcgnrd  the  Rhine  as  its  natural  boundorVi  should  feel 
that  it  would  ha*'o  in  futum  Miinr  siilMtnntial  olwtarle  to  ovcr^ 
come  bt'fure  it  could  gratify  its  Umfj-i-hfrishitl  nmhilimi.  For 
this  purpose  ever}thin^  was  dune  that  stati'suiansUip  could  devise. 
At  first  all  seemed  to  promise  harmony  and  contentment  in  the 
new  kingdom.  There  was  a  great  and  imme<liate  revival  of 
prosperity  in  Belgium.  Its  commerce  M'as  tripled  by  n  jwirtici- 
^latUmio  the  lucrative  colonial  tradr  which  tlie  peace  had  re3tore<l 
to  tiie  Dutch;  foreign  merchants  ag^in  fixed  their  estatilishments 
at  Antwerp;  foreign  flags  were  once  again  seen  on  the  Scheld  ; 
and  it  even  seemed  about  to  regain  some  of  its  former  imjior- 
tance.  But  there  were  already  signs  appearing  which  indi- 
cated a  spm^tly  interruirtion  to  the  general  tranqnillity.  As  a 
cnmmercial  pmple  the  incrclmnt^  of  Holland  from  thr  first  re- 
garded the  union  rather  in  the  iipht  of  an  unequal  partnerriliip  in 
trade  than  as  an  important  political  arrangement  They  virwed 
Belgium  as  anew  memljcr  ailmitti-il  into  an  old-established  firm. 
The  ritpltal,  wt-alth,  and  connexion  wen?  all  on  lhi;ir  sidi-.  They 
bad  ftbi^Ki,  colonies,  ami  a  commerce  which  extended  to  the 
fintbest  regions  of  the  earth.  Belgium  was  a  fertile  country  in- 
deed, and  possessed  a  few  manuiaetures  ;  but  why,  they  said, 
should  Ihitehmen  \ie  eom|)elled  to  pureliasr  (ht*  products  of 
Dol^ian  iiMluslry  when  birtter  and  cht-apt^r  articles  could  l)c  pro- 
cured from  abroad  ?  The  Belgians  wi^re  piotcctionists ;  the 
Dutch,  by  their  tnuliiions  and  their  interests,  were  free  traders. 
The  Belgians  wished  to  exclude  foreign  com ;  the  Dutch,  not 
being  growers  of  com,  wishetl  to  admit  it.  Tlie  interests  of  the- 
Dutcli  w(i-c  inseparable  from  a  free  interchange  of  comninditics 
with  other  nations;  ilie  interest  of  the  Belgians  was  to  restrict 
the  Dutch  to  the  home  market  If  the  desire  for  a  separntion 
bad  not  s|>ecdi]y  manifested  itself  in  Belgium,  it  is  pmbntile  tlmt 
tlie  Dafch  tliemselvcs  would  before  long  hare  demamlitl  it. 
Amsterdam  and  Knttenlom  were  drrlining.  Tlie  proiUicu  of  the 
colouies  was  no  longer  carried  in  the  same  quantities  to  those 
citiea,  and  several  of  the  great  commercial  houses  were  even 
tottenng  to  their  Jail.* 

■  *  lu  t839  tbcimpoTtsof  Jiivsco&MtoAiiut«rdsuaiuoual«dl9  iV*"">^i^ '>>■•• 

■  to  Autverp  tlicv  wra  54,OOO,(M>0  lbs. 

I  S  c  2  The 


I 
I 

I 
I 


I 


386 


Belgium. 


The  grievances  of  tlie  Belgians  were  nttber  moral  than  ma 
rinl.     Tlip  language  uf  Holland   was  not  theirs ;  hut  it  was  the 
lanjruaffe  of  the  court,  of  the  tribunals,  and  of  the  legislature. 
AU  these   contrasts   of  character  anil  {>p|>()sin}r   intwests  Iwcame 
glaringly  conspicuous  as  s(M>n  as  the  n-pn-seiitativcs  of  the  ne 
nation   fimnd   themselves  face  to  face  in  the  Assembly  of 
tttites-Cjeneral.  lOn&'half  of  the  membei%  spoke  Dutch,  the  oth 
half  only  Flemish  or  French.     The  Belgian  representatives  di 
not  understand  the  Dutch  in  dcbnte,  shice  tlie  Dutch  did  i 
choose    to    make    themselves    understood    fay  speaking    Frcnclu 
An  inter]H?llation  by  a  Belgian  deputy  was  often  responded  to  in 
a  language  which,  fur  any  intelligible  infurtnatlon  tltat  it  convey 
might  as  well  have  been  Japanese.     Ths  most  important  offi' 
were  filled  bv  Dutchmen,  for  all  the  political  ability  of  the  Sta' 
was  possessed   by   the   portion  of    the  people  which    had    lo 
enjoyed   free  institutions,  and  understooil  the  practirni  worki 
of  govemmenL     The  (-ourt  resided  alternately  at  Brussels  an 
the  [Tague,  and   the  Hague  was  considered   a  dull   ]>Lnce  by 
vulatilt-'   Brlgians,    who  were    i-xtremclv    demonstrative  in    thei 
discontent    at    the    new  order   of  things  and   with    their  Dutcll 
fellow-subjects.     They  carirAtiired  their  language,  their  liter 
Cure,  their  persons,  tltcir  manners  and  their  moraU,  and  a  spii 
of  bitter  mutual  animosity   sprang  up  between  tliem.      If  the" 
State  in  Holland  was  ini|>erious,  the  Church   in  Belgium  wa» 
defiant.       Never    were    the    pretensions    of    the    Roman    cli 
advanced  with  a  more  contemptuous  disregard  of  the  civil 
vcrnment  and  of  the  prerogative  and  dignity  of  the  Crown.    The] 
assumed    an  authority  superior  to   that  of  the  State,  protestc 
against  the  tulemtion  of  heretics,  and  attacked  without  scruple 
ever^'  act   uf  (aovcrnmoiit  tluit  was  opposed   to  their  inordinnt^H 
claims.     Before  the  formation  of  the  new  kingdom,  they  hao^^ 
intimotcd  to  the  Court  of  Austria  that  if  that  friendly  and  faithful 
State  should  Im?  under  the  sad  necessity   of  abondoning   thci 
it    would    at   least  stipulate    with    the  other    Powers  of   Kuroj 
that  tlie  Roman   Catholic  faith  should    ha   supreme,   and 
the  Sovereign  should  be  restricted  to  the  exercise  of  his  devi 
tions  in  private.     Tlicir  exasperation  on  alterwards  finding  then* 
selves  uiuonditionally  subjected  lo  tlie  most  Protestant  moparcl 
in   Kuroi>e    knew  no   bounds ;  and    fmm    cU*rieal   agitators  they 
speedily  became  transformed  \n\a  political  conspirators. 

Whether  a  country  fermenting  with  sucli  discord  would  ever 
have  settled  down  into  tronquillity  is  doubtful.    Belgium  suffere 
at  first  considenihly  in  material  interests  by  her  successful  rcvoH 
The  manufacturers  were  particularly  affected  ;  a  protective  ducy" 
of  twenty-fire  per  cent,  had  been  established  for  their  espceisi 

benefit 


vcr 

re<^ 
oltfl 


A 


Btigi 


urn. 


387 


benefit  in  all  the  colonial  possessions  of  the  Dutch.  This  was 
now  at  an  piid,  and  the  ports  of  tlip  Inditin  AiThipcIngt)  were 
pnuiticall^  closed  against  thflr  productions.  The  asrnrulturists 
h<id  scarcely  less  cause  to  regret  the  rrvohition.  HdllamI  hnil 
aRbnIed  a  ready  market  for  their  produce ;  now  it  couhl  find  no 
outlet,  but  remained  in  the  country,  to  produce  a  rninoos  re- 
duction of  prices  mid  a  fall  uf  rents.  VV'h.it4'Vpr  may  liave  Ijeen 
the  |X)litical  consecjuencea  of  tb<T  union,  tln-n*  ran  In*  no  doubt 
that  in  tlie  fifteen  years  of  its  duration  ]3el^ium  attained  a  high 
degree  of  prosperity :  all  the  industrial  interests  of  the  country 
hnd  been  develoi»cd  to  an  extent  which  hod  been  unknown  in 
jnodpra  times. 

The  position  of  Belifium  now  became  one  of  considerable 
anxiety  to  its  people,  for  the  first  time  for  many  centuriw  they 
were  ibrown  entirely  upon  their  own  resources.  When  Belpium 
was  a  dependency  o(  Spain,  she  was  com[)eiisatcd  for  her  subjection 
tjf  tlie  enormous  profits  of  the  American  trade ;  when  she  was 
annexed  to  Austria,  she  had  a  German  market  for  her  goods ; 
when  sbe  was  incorporated  with  France,  slie  had  French  cu** 
tomers  for  her  rmnmodities  ;  but  she  now  appeared  cither  cut  olT 
from  thi-  ciiinmerc*!  of  thi?  world  or  ob!ig;ed  tn  enter  n|Hm  a  wide 
field  of  enterprise,  where  she  would  liave  the  greatest  eonimercifti 
niitioas  for  her  rivals,  luid  too  jwfd>ably  for  her  successful  com- 
petitors. When  Sir  Emerson  Tenncnt  >-isitcd  the  country,  ten 
years  after  its  scparalioa  from  Holland,  he  found  almost  nil  classes 
involved  in  n  common  distress  and  exjieriencing  the  disastrous 
cneot  of  the  revolution  on  (heir  prosperity.* 

The  political  separation,  ultimately  sanctioned  by  the  Great 
Powers  of  Kurope,  has,  however,  undoubtedly  proved  on  the 
whole  a  satisfactory  aiTan^emcut.  It  has  produced  an  amount  of 
general  political  <\mtentment  which  rendered  Belgium  tranquil, 
self-posscsswl,  and  loyal  when  the  revolutionary  storm  of  iJi-lS 
swept  like  a  whirlwind  over  Kurope,  and  endangered  tlie  sta- 
bility of  some  of  its  oldest  thrones.  The  political  status  uhich 
Belgium  has  now  acquired  gives  her  a  just  claim  to  conKi<lcmtinn 
and  rrspt'ct.  We  ]>n>p>sc,  tlierefi>re,  now  t<>  jtass  in  review  some 
of  the  principal  resources  and  interests  of  this  smatl  but  im- 
portant Slate,  of  which,  although  lying  so  near  our  own  shores, 
and  containing  so  many  English  residents,  less  is,  perhaps,  known 
than  of  some  more  distant  lands  which  possess  inferior  claims 
to  tjur  notice. 

The  very  peculiar  and  remarkable  agricoUaredescrresoor  first 
attention.     The  husbandry  Is  unlike  any  that  elsewhere  cxistm..i 


388 


BelgixooL 


On  nsccndinj^  one  of  (lie  steeples  or  belfries  in  Flnnders,  tliot  of  j 
Bruges   for  example,  one  of  tlie  most   remnrkabln  ni  lamlscnpai 
is  prrsfntetl  to  the  vyc.     A  vast  rxpansn  of  tlir  rlrlirst  riiltivalioQ 
stretches  £ar  and  wide  to  the  horizon;   no   hcdjie-rows — 'Jitile 
lines  oi  sportive  wood  run  wild  ' — break   the  level  of  the  plain ; 
few  trees  cnciunber  tJie  soil    but   those  which   bear  their  annual 
tribute  of  fruit.      Fur  hundreds   nf  yeare  tliis  rpmarkable  cuunlir 
has  borne  the  appearance  of  a  gattlt^n.     The  rich  aspect  which 
Belgium  presents  arises  from  two  causes,  the  densitv  of  its  popu- 
lation and  tlie  minute  subdivision  of  its  soil.     Its  cuUivntcd  arcn 
umnuuts  to  0,232,477  acn?s,  of  which  43  per  cent,  i-onaist  of  small 
faoldiiicrs,  not  exceeding  one  acre  and  a  quarter ;   1 2  per  coiiL  not,] 
excee<ling  two  acres  and  a  half;  and  the  remainder  is  divided 
into  what  in  England   would    be  regardc<l  as  very  inconsider- 
able farms.     But  this  extreme  subdivision  of  prttperty  s^vf%  i», 
the  country  some  of  its  most  pleasing  chararteri&tics.     I-'iolds  or 
rather   patches  of  bright   verdure  contrast  everjwliere  uith  the 
golden  coluurs  of  tlie  (luwering  colza,  or  of  the  ripening  corn,  o^^ 
of  bc<U  of  bright  poppj',*  or  red  and  white  clover,  or  Iruit-bearing , 
trees  arranged  in  picturesque  avenues  or  clumps.     Tlie  numbtr- 
of  pruduets  gives  that  variety  to  the  landsmpe  which    in  other] 
countries  is  geuerallv  the  efTert  of  irregularity  af  surfaip.      Thai 
glitterinc;  iraters  of  the  numfrous  ranals,  the  comfurtnblr  home-^ 
steads  aiid  pictnresque  windmills,  subserving  many  of  the  pur- 
poses of  the  steam-engine,  adtl  their  interest  to  the  scene.      The 
whole  of  the  ntirtliem  and  wesU>m  |K>rtion  of  Belgium,  ami  tiuicb 
of  Brabant,  Clin  only  Iw  compared  In  a  vast  garden — 

'  Blooming  in  briglit  diversitiiA  of  day ;' 

and  whatever  impression  it  may  make  on  the  agriculturist  ct  m\ 
tlngland,  whose  business  has  assumcfl  the  character  of  a  mami^Hj 
facturc,  it  is  calculated  to  impress  an  unprofessional  obierrecl^ 
with  a  high  sense  of  the  capabilities  of  the  soil  and  of  the  ii^ 
du&trv,  skill,  and  well-being  of  its  population.  Flemish  husbandrr* 
indec<l,  nmsl  be  n-gardwl  as  a  spet-ies  of  horticultare  ;  and,  witl 
respect  to  tilUge,  can  oidy  Iw  rompared  to  those  Inrgr  unc 
closed  mnrkct-gardens  with  M'hich  the  neigh Ixiurhood  of  Lnndi 
abounds.  Agriculture  in  Belgium  nowhere  assumes  that  im- 
posing character  which  it  displays  in  England.  Nu 
chimney  towers  over  the  homestead,  and  clouds  the  fair  lai 
scope  with  its  frequent  volumes  of  smoke ;  no  steam-ploiigh 
obs(?rved  simmering  among   the   furrows;    the   reapiug-inachioc 

*  Ttw  poppy  U  <-xtei>eiv«lj-  ealiiTsted  in  Delgtnm  for  Uie  sake  of  iu  oil  and 

medicioiJ  purpotefi. 

does 


4 


(loom 


CiWW^I 


BeiffitoR. 


3S9 


inot  rattle  ibroupTi  the  com-fipWs,  and  even  ihc  whirl  of  tlie 
■bin^niEicliinr  is  only  orrnsioruiHy  heanl.  The  agricuhural 
lomy  of  the  countrv  is  jj^rnerally  ni  thr  rerv  simpltrst  doscrip- 
and  perhaps  resembles  that  of  a  part  of  LCiiglaml  ia  ancient 
tixnes,  *  where  every  rood  of  ground  maintauwd  its  man,'  and  the 
custum  of  ^velkind  led  to  a  limilar  minute  mbdiriiion  of  the 
property. 

But  the  rwults  of  thU  elalwrat*?  cultivation  are  not  less  extra- 
onlinarv  than  the  manner  in  which  it  was  eiret^t4>d.  In  the 
northern  portion  of  l-'landert,  and  especially  the  neig-hbourhood 
of  Antwerp,  which  now  presents  an  almost  uiiparallclcd  picture  of 
agricultural  wealth,  the  soil  is  naturally  a  poor  loose  sand,  hliiwn 
into  hilliwlcs,  and  only  kept  together  by  the  roots  of  a  stunted 
Bhnib.  The  sandy  heatlis  which  lie  between  Antwerp  and  the 
Maas  are  of  ttie  most  barren  character,  and  a  coiuiderable  portion 
still  remains  in  a  state  of  nature.  If  it  were  not  for  the  mud  or 
clay  whicb  is  found  intermixed  in  layers  with  tln^se  snmU,  thB 
whole  would  have  been  hu|ieles5ly  irrerlairaahlc.  Where  on 
digging  a  few  fet-t  In-liiw  the  surface  a  stratum  of  marl  is  found, 
the  process  of  improvement  iM-gins.  The  riw»ts  of  heath  keep 
ths  nnd  together;  a  small  portion  of  the  inci{ular  surface  is 
le^fllr"*!  ami  surmuniled  with  a  tlitch.  A  jKitrh  (tf  broom,  nota- 
locs,  or  clovirr  forms  the  first  crop  <m  the  spiit  to  l»c  ic-ctaimed 
from  the  waste ;  compost  gradually  accumulate!*,  ami  liquid 
manure  is  prescrveil  and  abundantly  supiiUed  to  the  succeeding 
crops-  The  effect  of  tliis  stimulant  is  not  only  rapidlj  to  increase 
the  fertility,  but  to  change  completely  the  very  chararter  of  tha 
soil.  Clover  and  potatoes  reappear  in  increased  luxurianott 
ami  nuaDtity.  Improvement  follows  up<m  improvement,  and  the 
boundary  of  the  little  farm  ia  gradually  enlarged.  Frrmi  such 
smull  centres  cultivation  has  radiated  until  it  Ims  covered  one 
the   most  uitpn>mising  districts  in  Kuro|>c  with  ctujm  which, 

mand  universal  atlmiration. 
Tlie  imjwrtance  atUihcd  by  Belgian  farmers  to  liqnid  manure  is 
well  known.  The  extraordinarr  triumph  ol  industry  over  Nature 
luut  lietrn  attained  bv  the  combination  of  incessant  lalwmr  witli 
the  most  lavish  rx|)enditure  of  this  fertilisin;;  agent.  Such  ganlen 
cultivation  is  of  course  onlv  to  l>u  obtained  hy  fnirden  labour :  there 
is,  however,  much  in  the  economy  an<l  application  of  liquid  manure 
which  our  ^rmcrs  may  yet  turn  to  their  profit.  A  great  depth  of 
soil  is  pnxlaccci  bv  ihc  united  action  of  the  plough  and  the  s|)ade. 
Mr.  Bum,  in  his  minute nnd  careful  delineation  «>f  Belgian  ngricul- 
ture,  correcla  n  |mpulnr  fnllacv  that  througlioul  Mamlers  the  spade 
is  alone  used — th.it,  in  fact,  I'lemish  aivl  upade  hiialmrKlry  are 
equivalent  terms.     'ITie   plough  is  universnily  used,  spade  hu»- 

baudr>- 


it.' 


390 


Befffium. 


h»n<lry  l«?inp  rxclusivcly  adopted  in  only  one  or  two  cl 
Tlimugliout  Flanders  the  spade  is  g^m-rallv  used,  Iiut 
alniivs  in  con:icxiun  vh\\  (lie  ]>lim^li.  In  sutnu  districts  spadc- 
Jabuur  is  so  applied  tliat  it  takes  the  ruund  nt'  the  field  cvcr>'  i 
years;  and  many  landlords  stipulate  that  a  sixth  or  a  sev«nt 
part  of  the  land  shall  be  dug*  every  year,  thus  goin^  over  ih< 
whole  form  with  3iMid(!-laI«)ur  in  six  or  seven  years.  Dee| 
ploug-hinif  is  cfl'eeted  to  the  depth  of  from  15  to  18  inches,  onel 
plough  following  the  other  in  the  same  furrow,  (he  spuli 
beinf;^  occasionally  substituted  for  tlie  second  plough.  The  care 
with  which  these  and  all  the  other  operations  of  apiculture  orc^y 
conducted  gives  to  Belgian  husbandry  that  peculiarly  neat  aP'^H 
poarance  which  strikes  every  obserrer,  the  object  Ixring:  to  obtam^^ 
a  deep,  friable,  and  rich  soil,  equally  and  uniformly  manured. 

It  is  to  the  excellent  market  which  Kn^Iand  afr>nls   for  its 
produce  that  Belgium  owes  much  of  the  present  flourishing  and^ 
pnwpornus  state  of  its  agi'iculture,      Flantlei-s  may  l>e  almost 
g:arde<l  as  an  outlying  market-gar di'n,  nrdiard,  and  dair%-farm 
Great  Britain.    The  quantity  of  farm  and  ganlen  produce  onnuallj 
raised  for  English  consumption  is  astonishing.     In  1800  we  toot 
from  our  Belgian   neighbours   butter  to  the  value  of 'JG7,086A: 
fruit  and  vegetables  to  the  value  of  ir>0,000/. ;  steeds  to  tlie*"alucol 
3r>,7(14?. ;  li,C5(J,57fi  <ggs,  and   puullry  to  the  value  of  '10,270/J 
The  ejcportation  of  fruit  to  England  Is  now  carried  on  to  so  great 
an  extent  that  this  branch  of  horticulture  has  become  of  mnc 
importance  to  Belgium.      In  West  Flanders  the  orchard  distric 
lie  chiefly  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bruges  and  Di.\mudc. 
well-managed  orchard   will  produce  annually  30/.  worth  nf  iiruii 
per  acre.     Tlie  avenige  numl>er  of  fruit-trees  to  an  acre  is  IGf 
of   which   cheiTy,    pear,   and    apple   are   the    chief.     Notbii 
perhaps,  more  strikes  a  touiist   than  the  almost  total  abscnc 
uf   cattle   from   Uie   fields ;    in   fact  almiet  the  whole   of  evi 
estate  is  under  the  plimgh,  but  it  is  nnt  unusual  fur  30  mil 
cows  lo   be  kept  on  a  farm   of  100  acres.      They  are  stalled/ 
ami  fed  upon  oilcake,  benns,  clover,  roots,  and  cut  straw.     Tbe 
average  quantity  of  niilk  which  a  cow  gives,  when  fed   in  the 
stall,  greatly    exceeds    tliat    of  our    best   dairy    furms ;    and  the 
4}uantity  of  butter  made  from  a  given   quniititv  of  milk   is 
greater.     Barley  is  a  grain  of  much  importance   in  a  count 
where   the   vine   doo    not    thrive,    and    beer    is    the   princi[ 
beverage.      Turnips  were  eultivated    in  the    Low  CouDtrios  Jo 
mure  than  n  renlur}'  before  they  were  inlrrtduced  in  British  agn^ 
mlluie,  ami  the  excellence  of  the  IVIgian  carrot,  and  the  tvrti 
ditions  of  its  successful  cultivation,  have  been  long  duly  appr 
ated  and  understood  on  our  best  farms.    The  colza-plant  is  alUi 


Belgixtm. 


891 


to  tlie  nihlwipt',  ami  juvkIuccs  an  nifrapinmis  seed   from  whic-h  is 
extracted  the  oil  now  Id   such  general  dcinand,  and  cif  n-hich 
Belgium  supplies  about  a  third  of  our  consumptiim.     One  of  the 
most  important  of  liclgion  ]in>cliirt!ons  is  the  bcct-root,  and  the 
ituuittitv  of  sugar  which  is  annuiilly  made  frf>m    it  is  enormous. 
All    the    varied  product*    of    I)el(»i;iii  agriculture  are,  howpvpr^i 
secondary  to  that  of  flax,  for  which  many  ot"  ihe  oniiw  are  ron- 
sidrrcd  chiefly  as  preparatives.     Belgium  is  the  country  where 
the  cultivation  of  diis  plant  is  best  understood,  and  lor  whicl 
the  soil,    by  reason    of    its   careful  prcpanition  and  the    ; 
richness  produced   bv  incessant  manuring,  is  prob»blv  the 
adapted   in  Kuro|>e.       Belgian   flax  appears  to  great  ailvantagc 
in  the  display  of   the   agricultural  'productions   of  the  count 
in   the   International    Exhibition.      This  excellence   is  uttainc 
only  by  extreme  care.      Flax    is  the  cultivation  of  primary  im- 
portance on    every    well-conducttrd  farm.      The    importation  of 
Belgian  flax  into  Cireat  Britain  amountc<l  in  1860  to  the  value 

of -ta-i.tiTu/. 

AlUiough  small  farms  *"d  even  patches  of  gronnd  that  would 
be  conKiden-d  in  Knglaufl  rather  an  fielil  allotments,  form  the 
general  character  of  Belgian  husbandry,  there  are  in  the  western 
and  north-western  prorinces  extensive  and  well-waterw!  plains, 
where  agriculture  is  carried  on  upon  a  larger  scale  and  witli  some 
of  the  most  approved  modem  appliances.  Most  of  the  forms  in 
this  district  ai"e  provide*!  with  straw-cutters,  njot-cuttere,  and  oil- 
cake-crushers ;  and  improved  ploughs  and  threshing-machines 
are  gradually  coming  into  use.  As  Belgium  piissesses  peculiar 
facilities  for  tlic  manufacture  of  fnnn  machinery,  it  ought  to 
be  even  better  provided  in  tliat  rcsjxft  than  most  other  countries. 
There  is  one  peculiarity  in  Belgian  agriculture  which  is  highly 
c^ractcristic  of  the  pc^oplc,  namely,  the  raising  of  simultaneous, 
or,  as  they  are  termed,  stolen  crops  on  their  farms.  'J*hu9,  not 
content  with  obtaining  alternate  annual  crops  of  cereals  and 
roots,  the  Flemish  farmer  often  obhiins  two  crojw  fn)m  tlie  same 
soil  in  the  same  year.  With  Uu*  flax  he  will  w»w,  lor  instance, 
carrots,  and  hy  careful  manuring,  weeding,  hoeing,  and  diinning, 
will  obtain  a  valuable  root  crop,  while  the  flax,  or  the  hemp,  or 
some  other  description  of  what  arc  termed  in  Belgium  the 
industrial  plants,  is  arriving  at  maturity.  There  is  a  general 
desire  evinced  throughout  Belgium  to  improve  the  native  rattle, 
through  the  iiitriMluction  of  the  Durham  breed  by  enterprising"  i 
proprietors,  among  whom  Baron  Peers  of  Oosicbam[),  near 
Bruges,  is  llic  most  eminent.  Flemish  stock  is  said  to  have 
increased  one-third  in  value  by  the  system  of  crossing  with 
improved  breeds.     The  breedinsf  and  tearing  of  horses  is  also 

aa 


an   important  brancli   of  bu 

imTWuting   in   pnuMjrtJoji   t«  the  iinprovcmenta 
country    in    Eun>|K>    ii    the    attention    of   die    nilem   more    fTS- 
lematitial)}' directed  to  the  encouragement  of  agriculture.     l*be    ^^ 
territoria]  dirlsions  of  the  kingdom  have  been  taken  advantage    ^M 
of  for  the  pur|K>M'  of  collecting  and  diffusing  oseful  information.    ^" 
A  sujterior  Council  of  Agriculture  forms  one  of  ihn  departmcnU 
of  the  Slnte.     A  jjernianrnt  commiftfiinn.  roxnpnst^d  of  practical 
men  nominated  by  the  King,  sits  in  each  province,  an<i  rf.'|>ort«        |. 
ittmually   upon   its  agricultural   condition  and   pmsjiects.      Each    ^| 
district  possesses  a  committee  which  meets  twice  a  ycnr.      Krcrj    ^V 
successful   experimpnt  in  rultivation  is  thus  certain  of   being 
rrporUid  to  tlic  Government,  and  is  immediately  made  genenillT 
known.     Itiifl  action  of  the  State  is  well  seconded  by  the  intrlli* 
pence  of  the  people,  wbo  have   estttblishrd  iigriculluml   sorietira 
througliont    the   country.      A    gmtid   Agricultural    Exhibition   is 
held  vveT\  fire  years  nl  Brusaelsi,  ajid  prizes  of  considerable  value 
are  awnided. 

Although  Belgium  ia  not  exempt  firom  some  of  the  evil*  of 
(Antral ization^  and  the  Goremmcnt  has  occasionallv  cndesvinired 
to  acct>mpl!)>h  for  commerce  what  it  nm-er  ought  to  have  altrmptedf 
the  territorial  divisions  of  the  kingdom  encourage  a  iH'uldiv  poli- 
tical activity.  The  country  is  divided  into  9  provinces.  H^ 
arronduisements,  36d  cantons,  and  2^28  comninoes.  The  pn>> 
vinces  have  each  a  governor,  nominated  by  the  King ;  and  counrila^ 
tlio  incmlKTs  of  which  are  electe<l.  These  counrils  perfonn. 
fuoctions  of  great  im|K>rtan<-e.  Their  sesfiinn  dtirs  not  cimtinoft 
longer  than  lour  weeks,  but  thej-  arc  thurgcd  with  the  dnty  of 
wat«-hing  over  the  interests  of  the  provinces,  of  rcgulndng  locnl 
taxation,  suiwniiitending  public  works,  ami  reporting  on  ngrifml* 
ture.  Jtonils,  canals,  bridgfs,  and  education  are  nil  auliject 
to  thi;ir  jurisdiction.  When  tlie  comicil  is  not  in  session  a 
stamling  committee  of  six  members  is  cntmstetl  with  executive 
functions,  and  performs  the  duties  of  a  provincial  admini^ 
tiation.  The  cantons  arc  established  cbitrfly  for  facititatiog 
the  udministmtion  of  justice;  each  possesses  on  effective  and 
inexpensive  pfilice,  and  a  jurisdiction  for  the  trial  of  nfleooea 
not  invoN-ing  a  fine  of  more  than  200  francs.  The  commmaw 
in  si«ue  respects  resemble  our  parishes,  but  are  without  the  powwr 
of  taxation,  which  is  the  exclusive  right  of  Ac  provincial  catatr' 
cils:  they  liave  important  local  duties  to  discharge,  and  ran 
appeal  to  the  King  against  any  acts  of  the  provincial  council 
which  they  consider  unreasonrtble.  and  it  is  a  proof  of  the  gtnenl  ■] 
equity  of  the  locnl  aiiininistrntlon  of  tlie  kingdom  that  this  rig^ 
has  only  been  exercised  three  times  during  the  present  reign. 

Uflgtum 


mm  ^A 


Belgium  is  only  ono-clghth  of  the  size  of  Knglaml  anil  Scot- 
land, and  one-third  of  the  size  of  Ireland,  yet  on  this  small  tspace 
it  mnintnins  »  population  of  4,420,202,  which  is  thus  classed 
according  lo  the  last  census  : — 

Bonun  Catholics »  4,839,196 

Prot«36Uiito 6,fi7fl 

Jews       l,S'S6 

Although  almost  the  entire  people  are  Roman  Catholics,  religious 
equality  is  established  by  one  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  the 
State.  The  constitution  of  Belgium,  iruleed,  may  be  snid  to  lie 
based  upon  attnost  the  hmadtst  prinriplcs  of  l)benili!tm,  llie 
liberty  of  the  press,  the  right  of  jK-titioti,  the  inilrp-ndfiicR  of 
the  judges,  the  rcs}}onsibtlity  of  ministers,  the  power  of  taxation^ 
the  de|>emlrnce  of  the  army  upon  an  annim!  vote,  assimilate  tlie 
COEistilution  of  Di'l^iutn  to  tW  Britisli ;  Imt  in  its  niiresen* 
lativc  syslLTin  it  di-jKirts  widi-ly  from  tliat  inud<.'l.  Niiinb«nv 
form  its  basis,  but  the  qualification  of  an  elector  is  the  amiual 
payment  of  forty-two  francs  in  direct  taxation,  and  one  deputy 
to  c«ch  40.0(>IJ  inhabitants  is  the  prowrtiou  fixed  by  tiir  coo- 
stitution.  The  second  chamber  is  elective,  ami  is  ehoscn  by 
the  some  voters  who  eleot  the  first.  In  nil  the  attempts  which 
luire  been  made  on  the  Continent  to  form  ^governments  on  tlie 
model  of  the  British  constitution,  the  most  conspicuous  failure 
has  f^acrally  been  in  originating  a  second  chomlier  analogous 
to  our  House  of  Lords.  8ncb  an  institution  cannot  be  the 
'  hasty  prwluct  of  a  day,'  and  certainly  i»"  country  but  Kng- 
land  poMosses  to  the  same  extent  the  elements  of  such  a  Senate, 
namely,  a  nobility  of  great  territorial  possessions,  ancient  titles, 
■nd  hereditary  consideration,  arisiiij;  in  many  inHtsinrcs  Frnm 
eminent  aervices  and  great  lustorir-al  renown,  raisril  liv  their 
assured  rank  aljovc  the  imjiulacTs  of  vulgar  ainbitimi,  and  re- 
moved by  their  preptmdenttJiiK  wealth  beyond  llie  suspicion  of 
coiTuptton,  yet  possessing  jurpular  8_>*mpatbies  and  yielding  to 
public  opinion  when  that  opinion  lias  Ijccn  unequivocally  ex- 
|»rcs9ed.  A  siH^ond  Legislativr  C-lmmlH*r  sti  coinpowMi  may 
occasionally  interfere,  and  di>es  (il'tcn  interfere  with  effect,  to 
modify,  ur  suspend,  or  annul  ilic  hasty  action  of  a  first ;  but  a 
Senate  elected  by  the'  same  voters  that  return  the  more  )topular 
HMcmhly  is  q  political  anomaly,  ami  can  poMcas  little  rent 
importance  or  value  in  the  State. 

The  educational  svstem  of  BelfrJum  may  possibly  Iw  worthy 
of  Attention  in  the  present  unaettlitl  state  of  our  owu.  Ample 
|>FDvifti4in  has  been  made  for  elementary  schools,  but  the  inttra^ 
tiun  is  rarely  carried  l)eyond  reading  and  writing,  the  dements 
of  aritlunetic,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  legal  sv'Stcm  of  weights 

and 


and  mcamros.      Bclcium  seeks  not  to  impnrt  advancetl  know-' 
k*dgT  uiisuitfd  to  the  wgf  and  tapacitv  of  children,  but  only  the 
rudiments  of  education,  mul  tlip  means  of  earryiDg  it  on  afterward* 
U'itlumt   assistance.        Klcincntar}'    instiiicticni    is   ihns  made   tliR 
basis  of  future  self-education.     Considerable  reluctance  is  shown 
to  embrace  even  these  adiimtapes,  and  the  same  difficulties  are 
encountered  In  Belgium  as  elsewhere,   in   inducint;  parents  to 
retain    their  chihl^(^^    in    tlie   priirmnr'   sehixils   suffieirnllv    limg 
even  for   the  above  simple  purpose.     The  exijcnse  of  »lucation 
falls,  in  the  Grst  instance,  on  the  commune;   and  in  Oie  event  ufj 
R  dcHciencT  of  funds,  the  morince,  and  ultimately  the  Statc,J 
comes   to    its    assistance.      TImtc    is   an    institution,    hawcrer,] 
pe<'ulinr  to  llel^ium  which  must  considerablv  interfere  with  jnngi 
iittciidnnL-c   at   the  schools  nf  primary  instruction.      In  1''nsliu)(i, 
the  iiibiiiir  market  and  the  scluxil  come  into  early  compciitifm,! 
but  the  ateliers  tfafrf/retitipsnffe  in  Belgium  afibrd  stronj^  induoe»J 
ments  to  poss  at  n  veiy  early  nge  from  the  schools  into  establish- 
ments where  tlic  tmde  of  the   future  nrtisAn  is  cnrefnily  taught 
ami  wnt;t*s  iire  immediately  ramefl.     These  schools  of  industry  at 
founded  on  the  principle  that  a  s|>eciiil  eilucaUon  is  of  mure  ii 
portancc  for  the  future  workman  than  primary  instruction  rarric 
l>cy<>n<l  a  ccrinin  and  verv  limited  extent.   These  practical  schools 
nrv  of  tlie  greatest  iin|Kirtance  in  the  social  economy  of  Belgiut 
Opiiiicm   was  once  divided  on  their  value,  but   Uiey   have 
be<'ome  finnly  established  as  public  institutions,      *  EfUu-aiioa,^ 
their  advocates  say,  Ms  a  good  thing,  but  It  is  not  evcryihini;; 
the  future  lab»uirr  ought  tu  liavc  his  future  occupation  alvar 
in   view,  and    his   fat-ullies  should    be   S|>ccially   trained    for  ihoj 
employment  by  which  he  must  live.      To  read,  write,  and  evphrrj 
is    gouti ;    but  to   acquire  nn   early  proficiency   in  the   pursuit 
by  which    he    must   cam   his   bread   is   better.      The    habit  of 
industry  is  acquired ;  children  are  saved  from  the  corruption  of 
the  streets  ;  and  the  earnings,  although  small,  foster  indejtemlenre 
and   self-respect,'     The  value  of  the  articles   pn>duce«l  in    thrsr 
establishments  is  <Iivideil  among  tlie  youn^  apprenticrs^  who  fvs 
vngv«  varving  firom   fifty  centimes  to  two  francs  per  day.     TTie 
pupils  on  leaving  the  establishments  receive  certificate*  which 
procure  for  them  a  ready  admission  to  the  mills  of  the  great  zntos- 
facturers,  who  regard  them  widi  much  favour.     The  skill  which 
•ome  of  these  young  workmen  have  arqutred,  and  the  talent  tfatf 
has    l>ecn    occasionally  derelopetl,  have  even    led  to   impnm- 
ments  in  manufactures  and  to  new  branches  of  industry.      AUar 
thousands   find   employmeot   in   the   imhistrinl    schools;    and    m 
the    labcjiuing   population    cftiu»>t    Ix*   employed    in   aigriciilaiq 
it  is  considered  right  to  entxmra^  manufacturing  iitdostr^  '' 


Beiffi 


itm. 


395 


order  to  prevent  the  country  from  bcinj^  adlictcU  witii  a  panpcr 
jieasantry,* 

In  1800,  out  of  38,326  men  who  were  ilrawn  for  tlu>  miHtia, 
13f'.^65  had  received  no  education  w*hatcvcr ;  9234  could  r«id 
and  write,  2945  could  read  only,  and  12,102  had  received  a 
soraen'hnt  more  advanced  education  tlian  reading  and  writing. 
This  low  condition  of  primary  instruction  has  sinct-  been  cnn- 
aidcrablv  raised,  'llic  schools  are  entirely  under  the  contml  uf ' 
the  communal  authorities,  and  rclig'ious  instruction  is  imparted 
by  deh'^tes  from  thr  ilifferent  religious  bodies.  The  sduwl- 
mastcr  njijininted  hy  tlie  communal  Council  must  tave  attendrd 
a  traiuin};  collc^  for  two  years.  The  minimum  salary  is  200 
francs  (^/.),  in  addition  to  a  house  and  garden,  and  the  school 
fees.  'i"hc  avcniiffc  income  of  the  teachers  docs  not  t^reed  20/. 
An  lulmirabte  institution  supplies  a  fund  for  providinf^  pecu- 
idaiy  aisistanct;  to  u^ed  and  infirm  tmrhers,  their  widows 
and  children.  All  schoolmaster's  and  mistressi-s  are  obliged 
ti>  become  members  o(,  and  to  contribute  to,  the  rainst!  tin 
]n't-v0^aHcc.  The  widow  of  a  teacher  who  has  been  employed 
for  twelve  years  is  entitled  to  a  pension,  as  well  as  the  children, 
tmtil  they  attain  the  age  of  sixteen.  Each  member  contributes 
3  per  cent,  of  bis  income  to  the  fund,  which  is  frequentlv  aug- 
mented by  grants  from  the  Provinces  and  tlie  <^taie,  nod  is  a 
favourite  object  of  testamc^ntary  bequests  and  charitable  dona- 
tions. Every  province  possesses  n  general  inspector,  appointed 
by  Oic  Crown,  who  visits  once  a  year  all  the  rommunal  schools 
in  his  district,  and  makes  an  annual  rciiort.  Cantonal  inspectors 
visit  their  schools  twice  a  year.  '1  he  provincial  inspnctori 
ass(-mble  annimlly,  under  the  presidency  of  the  Minister  of  tbo 
Interior,  for  consultation;  ami  tlic  canti^nat  inspiK'lor  calls  n 
cneettn;;  of  all  the  masters  in  his  district  at  least  once  in  every 
three  niontUs  to  compare  the  dilTerent  modes  of  teaching  em- 
ployed. At  all  thtrsc  meetings  the  bishops  and  clergy  have  a. 
right  to  be  present,  but  ihcy  possess  no  vote  or  authority  what- 
ever in  tlie  practical  management  of  the  schools.  Their  inter- 
ference is  strictly  confined  to  advice — certainly  a  remarkabh* 
feature  in  the  elementary  education  of  so  Cntliolic  a  state  as 
Belgium,  and  proving  that  the  influence  of  the  priesthood  is 
regarded  with  general  distrust  Protestant  nations,  hajtpily, 
know  little  of  this  disunion,  for  that  perfect  identity  of  spirit  and 
pur|>osc  which  the  n'formnd  faith  has  established  between  the 


*  A  fTcat  ▼ari«ty  of  the  productions  of  thetn  apprcntice^cbool*  may  b«  scea 
in  tlte  wlj^an  depsrUuvot  of  the  IntonuttioQsl  Exhtbilioo. 

laity 


896 


Jielgium. 


I 


laity  and  the  clergy  secures  their  complete  and  coitliiil  co-open^ 
tioii.     Altbouph  th(;re  arc  j)r<»l>ab!y  few  pcwons  in  Beldam  who 
Would  m>t  resent  the  ImputzLtiun  that  they  vrire  not  jjuod  Catho* 
lica^  opposition  to  the  domination  of  an   Ultramontane   clergy 
hai   there    boen    manifested    in    the    most    nnrcjuivocal   manner. 
The    laws   affecting  charitable   be(|U(!Sts  hare,  after  an  obatiDaCe 
Btniggle  with  tlin  Church,  hecn  framed  to  fniard  ag:ainst  the  coih- 
so<|Ucnce«  of  spiritual    iniluoncc.      Attacks  arc   often   directed 
through  the  press  against  clerical  p*iliticjan8.     Beldam,  it  bat 
liecn    aaid    l>y   one  of   its  most    popular   writers,    mnst    strug]^lc 
against  the   Papal   thecicracv  'is  Hollotid  once  stmgglnti  a^^ainsl 
the   inundations   of  tlie   sea.      With    the  acquisitiun  uf  jioUtiral  ^_ 
independence  lias  reap|rcared  not  a  little  of  the  ancient  s])irit  of  ^| 
the  Belctc  race,  which    made   it   famous  in  Europe  Ijcfonr  it        i 
was  euf(*ei>lrd    by    Uic    ^ivernincnt  of  Charles   V.,   and    nearly 
crushed   by  thf  tremendous  despotism  of  tiis  son^  who  was  but 
too  well  served  by  tlie  able  and  unscrupulous  men  who  governed 
the  Netherlands  in  his  name.    In  few  Roman  Catholic  countries 
docs  the  power  of  die  priesthood  excite  more  jealousy  ur  inspire  ^^ 
greater  precautions  against  its  abuse.  ^H 

Tlie  cmt-ficlds  and  Imn-mims  of  Ilclg-iom  have  made  it  a  i 
manufacturing  country  C-apable  of  competinj;  successfullv  with 
Great  Britain  in  some  of  the  most  important  of  its  staples  Bel- 
gium is  almost  traversed  from  cast  to  west  by  beds  of  coaL  The 
estimated  extent  of  the  western  bnun  alone  is  222,400  aerrs.  All 
rarieties  are  found,  from  antlirarite  to  the  richest  gas  coal.  Il 
has  been  estimated  tliat  lielfjiuin  contains  140  workable  liedl^ 
the  total  thickness  of  which  amounts  to  1)0  metres,  or  2DB  feeL  ^d 
In  1J560  the  quantity  raised  wn%  St,610,8ft5  tonnes,  nearly  cqui-  ^^ 
Talent  to  our  Ions,  of  the  estiiiialed  value  of  107,127.282  francs, 
or  about  4,2ri5,080/.  'ITicre  were  employed  78,237  cullicrs*  of 
whom  60,954  worked  underground.  To  raise  this  amount  of 
cool,  and  pump  the  water  from  the  pits,  7t$3  steam  eni^incK 
were  in  uiM^ratiua,  representing  a  total  force  of  4t),V69  horses. 
All  tlie  collieries  of  France  did  not  produce,  in  \>ihi\  more  than 
7,500,000  tons  of  coal,  including  lignite.  The  productive  capa- 
bility of  Hclgium  in  coal,  although  small  in  prt»[K>rtiou  to  onr 
enormous  prcjUuce  (80,000,000  of  tons  in  lti(il),  is,  il  will  be 
Been,  greater  than  that  oi  France.  Iron  ore  is  almost  equally 
abundant  Scraing,  the  great  manufactory  for  machincrv,  u  ooi 
of  the  wonders,  not  of  Belgium  only,  Irat  of  tlie  world.  Coftll 
minnt  ore  worked  widdn  it«  walls;  in>n  ore  is  nkised  and 
smelted ;  canals  and  railroads,  intersecting  the  town  in  cverj 
direction,  convey  the  rude  materials  from  the  mine  to  the  r4irgtt, 

ieom 


I 


Bclffi 


um. 


897 


from  ihc  forge  to  the  workslufp,  and  fnim  tbo  wdrksLup  tlie 
finisbctl  ttrticUs  are  traniported  to  trareUouses,  or  ili-s|tat(:1i(-cl 
direct  U.>  till*  cuuutries  lor  wliich  tlic^'  have  been  made.  Imn  raiJa ' 
are  uow  tx-iiig  made  iu  laigc  quantities  for  Kus.-ibt  oiul  S|Miin, 
and  lliirty  locomotives  have  receutly  been  tunuJ  out  I'ur  tlie 
SwKgoaia  iiailway  by  one  fimi,  which  has  also  coDtracted  lor  su{i- 
plying  the  whole  rolling  stock  of  the  Kuuian  line  now  in  ct>urse  of 
construction  u>  the  Sea  of  Azof.  Iron  ore  and  manufactured  iroo ' 
Compose  the  principal  exports  of  I3el|fiuui,  and  her  nntunl  adviui- 
tagei  In  tlu!Si:  productions,  joined  nith  the  comparative  Ioivik'hs 
of  wages  And  moderate  taxation,  make  her  a  formid.-ihlf  rival  uf 
England.  In  1860  the  manuiactoties  of  Liege  turned  out  5iJ3,279 
stand  uf  anus,  of  which  170,000  were  for  troops,  showing  an 
increase  over  tlic  proceding  year  of  80,512,  occaaioned  chiefly  by 
the  deiniuid  fniiit  Italy.  The  value  of  the  pmductinns  of  the 
Liege  gunsmiths  for  elevt^n  months  in  tlir  year  18t>l  is  pstjmatetl 
at  IS.tiSliSjOiX)  francs.  The  manufacture  of  arms  is  one  of  the 
most  succeshlul  branches  of  Rrlgian  indastrj'. 

The  oldest   iiidusti-y  uf  lii-igium  is  her  cloth   manufacture,  ia 
which  she  for  a  considerable  |)eriod   commanded   the  market 
of  Europe,  an<l    still    maintains   a   respectable  jMuitioti.      Tbaj 
looms  of  Vervters  arc  now  fully  employed  in  supplying  a  cheap! 
uniform    for   both    the  Federal  and  the  CoiU'edenite    armies  i>f 
America.      Belgium   has  attained  ii  considerable  devel<>]>meiit 
in    elotb  \  manufacture    by   carefully    adapting    its   productious 
to  foreign    markets.     A  maau£tcturer  of  Vcrvii-rs  recently  ob- 
tained almost  a  monoiwly  of  the  American  market  by  sendin^j 
out  liglit  and   cheap  cloths,  fabricated   to  last  only  one  season. 
The  priiductinns  of  Ver\'icn(  arc  well  represented  in  the   Intcr- 
natiunal    Exhibition.      Whether  tliey  equal   those  of  Leeds   fmd.1 
Somersetshire,  or  of  the  Zotlvcrein,  and  of  Austria,  which  is] 
making  rapid  strides  to  perfection  in  tliis  branch  of  Industry, 
■we    must   leave   to   the  judgment  of  those   convprsanl   with   tiie^ 
nuuiulueturc  and   cxpcrirneed   in  the    troile.     There  is  a  branch  I 
of  industry  in  which  Belgium  possesses  an  iindispute<l  superiority, 
namely,  iu  the  production  of  that   wonderful   fabric   known  aai 
Brussels  lace.     The  artistic  taste  and  minute  labour  employed 
in  thin  texture  arc  amazing.     Tlie  specimens  which  ailorn  the 
Belgian  department  of  the  Exhibition  liave  probably  never  Iwen 
surpassed.      I'airy  fingeis  seem   to  have  woven  tissues  of  sur- 
passing  beauty  out  of  the  lightest  gossamer  that  floats  in  thr 
summer  air. 

The  cotton  manuiacturc  of  Belgium  has  been  long  in  a  dtrplo- 
niblc  state  of  depression.     It  has  felt,  in  common  with  our  own, 

the 


a9ft 


B«l)iuaL 


the  inconvenience  of  being  deprivpil  of  I'^Uon  fn>in  Ainerics« 
but  the  lo5»  has  lieen  in  some  deforce  met  by  the  substitution  of 
linen  for  cnttim  V'^rn  !n  mixed  fabrics.  This  branch  of  nationitl 
inilustrv^  although  higUIy  protected,  ha»  ioD|r  since  ceased  to 
show  any  real  vitalit}*;  ncvcrtbck-ss  tlic  relative  otlvantaf^  of 
the  Belgian  pitxluccrs,  in  light  taxation  und  low  vrage&,  are  bo 
decided  that  their  nianuTocturcs,  if  really  good,  ought  not  to  fear 
cuui}ictiti(Hi  in  any  market  of  the  world.  They  are,  however, 
almost  everywhere  undersold.  It  needs  but  a  glance  at  the 
cotton  fabrics  of  Belgium,  as  displayctl  in  the  Intematiotul 
Exbihitiou,  la  discavev  the  cause  of  this  disappiintmeot.  It  u 
evident  that,  while  other  c«>untries  have  rapidly  advanced  in 
the  art  of  calico-printing,  Belgium  lias  stood  still.  Anytliing 
more  unattractive  than  the  cotton  prints  of  Ghent  and  other 
manufacturing  towns  of  Flander?  can  scarcely  be  conceived; 
And  nhen  seen  by  the  side  of  Manche-Stcr  gotnls,  with  their 
bright  dyes  and  tasteful  patterns,  tbcy  anr  jxisitivi-ly  rrpul- 
The  art  of  dralgn   lins  {ircatly   contributed   to  diffuse  a 


Kive. 


taste  for  liritisb  cottons  and  muslins  over  the  world.  Nature  has 
lieen  imibitcd  in  her  must  brilliant  colours  and  beautiful  forms, 
to*giv(?  variety  and  attract! vt-ufss  even  to  the  chcajK'st  fabitcs  of 
our  looms.  The  monopoly  of  the  home  market,  which  the  Belgian 
manufacturers  have  long  possessed,  must  have  ma<lc  them  indif- 
ferent to  improvements  in  design;  and  the  Flemish  peasantzT, 
having  nothing  ijetter  presenteil  to  them,  buy  of  neei'ssity  what- 
<.*ver  is  oflfered.  Tlie  saine  roiispjeiious  defect  in  the  cotton  maiiu- 
fiacture  was  commented  on  by  Sir  Emerson  Tennent,  in  his  work, 
on  Belgium,  to  which  we  liave  before  referred,  *  Fa>t  colours,' 
he  said,  '  are  all  they  seem  to  aspire  to.'  Belgian  prints  were 
then  constantly  under-sold  from  ID  to  lb  per  cent  by  English 
goods  in  foreign  markets.*  The  long  monopoly  of  the  home, 
and  during  the  incorporation  of  the  (-ouiitry  witli  HolLand,  of 
the  colonial  trade,  has  doubtless  been  one  of  the  principal 
catises  of  this  inferiority.  The  productions  of  Belgium  liad 
formerly  an  outlet  in  the  Indian  possessions  of  the  Ni-therhinds. 
If  the  mauutacturcrs  were  suffering  at  home  from  a  plethora  of  pro- 
duction, they  piHirtHi  the  cuuti-nta  of  their  overstocked  warehouses 
into  Java.  HoUmid  aloiK  supplied  two  millions  and  a-halfof 
customers.  The  Belgian  manufacturers  have  now  certainly  no 
rig^t  to  \jc  surprised  if  fabrics  suited  only  for  semi-civili»«I 
Asiatics  or  for  the  uncultivated  titstes  of  their  OM-n  people  are 
returned  unsold  upon  their  hands  when  offered  iu  competition  with 


I 
I 


*  Bar  Emerwa  Tcnneut'ii  '  Belgium,'  toL  1.,  p.  181. 


Beigium. 

nrtistic  pnxlurtions  of  Mftnchostpr.  TIip  wages  of  n  Ghpnt 
workman  sriircrlv  iiinount  to  one-third  of  tlio«*  of  an  Knplihh 
artisan;  for  although  cotton  is  i)n  nn  avpragt*  *J  per  cx-nl.  lii-oriT 
at  Antwerp  thnn  at  Livprpool,  labonr  at  Ghent  is  from  40  to  50 
per  cent,  cheaper.  In  llolgium,  the  rates  and  taxes  on  a  mill 
containinc^  20,000  spindles  amount  to  1289  fmncs  ;  in  England, 
thcv  would  amount  to  15,875  francs,  making  a  difTcrcnce  of 
14,55^1)  francs.*  This,  with  a  commission  of  25  per  cent,  paid 
in  Kngland,  hut  not  in  Belgium,  would  make  a  total  dilfereuce 
of  23  per  cent  in  fai-our  of  the  Belgian  manulnctmrrs. 

Tlie  gront  advantage  which  Belgium  derives  from  her  com- 
merce with  England  was  long  ungmciously  acknowledged  and  ill 
requited.  England,  it  was  said  bv  timiil  and  disheartened 
mannfacliirers,  is  a  giant,  which  seeks  to  emhmce  IHgium  only 
to  slide  her.  But  it  is  to  the  market  of  England  that  Belgium 
owe«  much  of  the  pmsperons  condition  of  her  agriculture,  whilo 
the  people  nl'  Belgium  receive  {KditicaUv  the  unfailing  support  of 
Oreat  nritJiin,  It  was  to  hrT  action  that  Belgium  oweil  its  imle- 
pendence  in  1830 ;  it  is  to  her  attitude  since  I85I  that  it  owes  it 
now.t  No  one  can  suppose  that  if  the  English  Ciovemnient  had 
mit  cleartv  shnn-n  its  cletermination  to  oppose,  at  any  sucrifico, 
the  annexation  of  Belgium  to  France,  the  name  of  Belgium 
would  now  he  found  on  the  map  of  Europe.  England  admitlol^ 
absolutely  free  of  duty,  almost  every  article  that  Belgium  prn- 
dnces;  and  In  return,  oalv  asked  to  be  put,  in  matters  of  trade,  on 
an  equality  with  France.  The  duties  on  French  commtKlities 
importe<l  into  Belgium  vary  from  10  to  15  per  cent  France 
imposes  heavy  duties  upon  manv  Belgian  pro«lucts ;  but  tlie 
return  which  Belgium  long  miulc  b>  En-^huiil  for  her  lilnMiility 
wa?  to  impose  duties  upon  almost  every  article  of  Britiiili  priMlur- 
tion,  ranging  from  1 8  to  1 30  per  cent  'llms  with  her  hosti  le  diffe- 
rmtta]  tarifl' she  placed  Great  Britain  in  a  far  worse  position  than 
many  of  the  obscure  States  of  South  America,  Italy,  Turkey,  and 
Greere.J  Previously  lo  the  great  nUeralions  in  the  English  tai'ifT, 
tlie  exports  of  lielgium  to  this  ct>uiitrv  were  insignificant,  and  did 
not  much  exceed  in  ralae  ^1,000,04)0  francs;  they  now  amount 


*  See  '  RopOTt  of  H.H.  Srcr^rtsrv  of  t j^gation  at  nrawdi.' 

t  t\\e  IK)  mi  nation  uf  ilic  Duke  ile  Nvuiours  tu  titc  Crown  of  Uclnum  was  tkc 
remit  of  Preach  iiitHgut';,  luiil  but  for  ih«  ciicrf^dtc  protest  of  Knglniid  woald  in 
L'St-ct  liavu  uixde  Iklgium  u  ili-p«;n<i«iit  province  of  PnutCv. 

X  llrititli  iron  wu«  (axfJ  7!)|  prr  LfiiL  (ad  raloriMn),  wnxiglit  iron  59j.  tJo 
piBtet  30,  blenirhwl  liuni  t>Sj,  cotton  yam  lilt-aclicd  Sl^.  collon*  \9i,  eatton 
hocicry  4«.  wuulWii  hniivry  S4(,  wooh«ui  ISf.  bcitlles  69,  window-glau  M|. 
couimnn  poiu-ry  3t,  botilol  beer  49},  porceloiu  23j,  limady  40,  vin«  39,  umI 
r«liun1  jiifnr  i:ki  per  cent.  1 

Vol.  112.— A'y.  224.  2  d  annually 


400 


Belgi 


um. 


anminlty  tn  nmrly  lflO,000,fl<10,     It  \%  chiefly  to  its  commcrcis 
wlations  with   Knglaud   that  Antwerp  owes  whatever  prosjwrilj 
it   iwiw   enjoys.     The  irade   with   Ka^land  tbmis  ooe-sixtL 
all  tlic  DierRintilc  tnuisactions  uf  Bclgiuni,  but  the  British  tnuli 
with    Bol^um    ninitunts   nnly   tu    oiii--r4irtieth    tif    thn   whole    m 
her   coinintfTCt? ;   nuil    this    rich   ami  Qnurlsliinj^   puptilatinn 
ni^arly  five   miUidos,  close   tu  our  ^ores,   consumes   less  uf  oar 
produce  than  Portug-al,  numbering  only  three  mitliotis  aiul  h-IiaI^h 
of  inipTA'eri^hed  people.*     A  party  has  lonff  ezistnl  iu  Bclifium^ 
favourable  to  a  morclilKral  jniliry  ;  for  a  larifl"  pnirticnlly  pmhibi- 
tivnof  Knj;Iish  i-ottoii  jfoiuls  did  not  prevent  the  existenee  (if  much 
distrc<vH  nnionj;  the   nianufneturinf^   population  uf   fihent.      Tho^l 
recent  tn-aly  of  commerce  and  navigation  between  Great  Brilaill^^ 
and  Belgium — nf>gotiated  under   the   direction  of  M.  Van   do 
Weycr,  an  enlif^htcncd  diplomatist,  accomplishetl  in  the  litera- 
ture of  England  as  in  tlint  of  his  own  country — has  rcccivt^J  iho 
cordial  supjmn  of  both   ChaiiilMfrs.     The  hijjh  duties  on  cottn 
twist  imported  from  England  have  been  reino^eil,  ami  this  crjuii 
is  now  placed  on  an  ecjual  footini;  'wilh   France.      A    E^rnduAl 
reduction  of  the  duties,   extending  over  a  period  of  two  y 
\%  only  a  reasonable  concession  to  the  manufacturers  of  Glicn 
and  will  give  them  time  to  meet  the  competition  which  the 
must  expect.     Tlie  pilot-tlulies  of  the  Scheld  are  also  rctlurrd 
and   die  cocisling-trade  of  Belgium   is    thrown   open   to    Briti 
TCBScls.     The   liberality  which    has  thus  been  displayed  by 
Belgian  Government  will,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  draw  even  c-loaei 
than  Ihey  arc  the  relations  bctn'ccn  the  two  countries. 

Although   the   elaborate   cultivation    of  the    soil   has    pi 
Belgium  n  high  iiink  in  agriculture,  manufacturing  industry  is 
to  some  extent  a  si>cial  necessity;  and  in  the  aliundnurr  i  if  coal 
and  iron  iiheposses^s  the  two  most  essential  conditions  of  surccis. 
But  Belgium,  in  endeavouring  to  increase  her  manufactures 
extend   her   commerce,  hos  committed  serious  mistakes, 
commerce  is  comparatively  a  modem  revival.     When  she 
annexeil  to  the  Austrian   monarchy  the  annual  exjK)rts  did 
furnish  a   sufiieieDt  cargo  for  one   large  ship,  and   her    interim] 
tnule  was  almost  equally  insignificant.     A  coasting  voyage  I'ntm 
one   home  ^xirt   to  another   was   regarded    almost  as    a    jdteno- 
mcnon,  and  this  depression  continued  until  the  establishment  uf 
the  kingdom  of  the  Ncthcrlamls.     How  restiictc<l  her  commer- 


*  Ilriilili  rroAwe  npOrted  lo  Bclginm  in  18BI  aiBonnl<>d  to  !,Bt(M14t,  vhl 
Ponog&l  took  from  Eudland  in  the  previous  year  ooBunodltIt*  to  tin  aatoust  i 
1,698.031/. 

cisl 


Belgium.  401 

cial  marine  now  is,  will  appear  by  the  following  return.  In  1861 
the  relative  quantity  of  shipping  possessed  by  Hamburg,  Bremen, 
and  Belgium  was  as  follows : — 

Ships.  Tom. 

Hamburg       488  187,322 

Bremen 279  184,204 

Belgium         158  87,978 

The  commerce  of  Belgium,  nevertheless,  is  considerable.  The 
gross  foreign  transactions  of  the  country  in  1860  were  estimated 
at  72,120,000/.,  a  prodigious  sum  for  so  small  a  State.* 

Great  efforts  have  been  lately  made  to  extend  the  foreign 
commerce  of  Belgium  and  to  force  a  market  for  her  manufac- 
tures. An  apprehension  seems  to  exist  that  the  exportations  of  the 
country  will  be  gradually  restricted  to  such  raw  productions  as 
coal,  marl,  and  minerals ;  symptoms,  it  is  thought,  have  already 
manifested  themselves  of  a  second  industrial  fall,  and  the  aid  of 
Government  has  been  loudly  invoked  to  ward  off  the  impending 
calamity,  *  The  excellence  of  our  productions,'  say  the  manufac- 
turers, *  and  their  moderate  price,  give  us  a  right  to  a  good  position 
in  the  markets  of  the  world ;  and  we  fail  in  obtaining  them 
because  our  means  of  export  are  not  proportioned  to  our  powers 
of  production.  Placed  between  the  great  Trans- Atlantic  conti- 
nent and  the  centre  and  east  of  Europe,  the  commercial  position 
of  Belgium  ought,  as  heretofore,  to  be  a  commanding  one ;  but 
our  marine  is  insufficient  for  our  exports,  therefore  the  stranger 
is  obliged  to  come  to  us  for  what  he  wants.  We  know  how  to 
produce,  but  we  have  not  learned  how  to  sell.  The  Government 
must  explore  the  world  for  markets  for  our  productions ;  the  dis- 
proportion between  our  powers  of  production  and  our  means  of 
sale  will  then  disappear.  Individual  enterprise  cannot  effect 
this ;  it  must  be  the  work  of  the  State.'  Such  is  the  theory 
enunciated  in  a  work,  the  title  oi'  which  we  have  prefixed  to 
this  article,!  ^^^  which  is  attributed  to  His  Royal  Highness  the 

*  The  sum  of  980,000,000  francB  represents  the  gross  amonDt  of  the  dealings 
of  Belgium  with  all  foreign  countries  ib  1S60.  Ths  largest  ibare  of  this  trade  is 
possessed  bj  Prance. 

The  share  of  France  was  (in  millions)   . .     . .     S71 '  3 

Great  Britain       1779 

Netherlands 164-5 

ZoUverein I13'9 

Russia 34-8 

the  rest  of  Europe      64*1 

America        ..      :.     131-3 

Aua       5*1 

Africa 4*1 


98G*8 
f  'Compl&nentde1'(£aTredel8^.' 

2  D  2  Duke 


Ml 


Duke  of  Dmliant.     It  is   impossible  not  to  admire  the  puh1i< 
spirit  which  has  induced  the  heir  of  the  lielpian  monarchy 
take  &t*  nnxious  an  intrrcst  in   tlie  commercial  cnnditiop  of  b 
eouiitrv,  am!  to  devote  liix  tronsiderahle  nliilities  to  the  senrice 
the  tniminunitv  of  wliich  he  will  i>iie  dav  tie  titc  hesd.      To  SQp> 
pose,  however,  that  Be]f;ium  can  ever  a^in  occDpv  that  pn&itioii 
10  reference   to  tbe  commerce  of  Europe  which  the  once  filU-d 
with  so  much  profit  to  herself  and  ndvantsf^  to  the  world,  ii 
overlook   the  cliangeii  of  siN-ietv,  nnd   the  revolution  wliirh   ni 
WHY'S  luid   steam    iiavt)^tion  have   rfli'cted  in   the  geuerni    iiiti 
course  of  nations.     The  si-heme  of  1  liii  Hoval  Highness  np|)c««1 
to  lie  tn  form,  under  tbe  auspices  of  Goi-cmment,  great  nation&l 
establishments  {drs  maiwns  HOtionahs),  commissioned  to  procurnH 
and  tTtnsmit  order^i  for  Bcltrian  manufacturers  uu  the  credit  n^| 
their   coimexioii  with  tlie  Ooremmcnt,  nnd   to  purchase  cura- 
mriditics  suitable  (m  Uie  home  nmrket.      This  plan  is  bascnl  on 
the  ho|)c  of  the  0|)enin^  up  new  markets  iu  barlKirous  or  uem'f. 
civilised  cmntries,  where,  it  is  &aid,  *  all  comers  are  equal.'     Mei 
cantile  expeditions,  protected  bv  ships  of  war,  bto  thus  the  su| 
gested  remedies  for  rcstorinff  Belgium  to  her  former  commcrcii 
ini|)ortauee.     The  Prince,  in  his  honourable  zeal  for  the  pTi>!t])iTit^ 
of  his   country,    luis  overlooked    some    funtlamental    trutbs. 
participation  of  the  State   in  the  rouimercinl  KjK'culations  uf  it 
subjecls  ofTends  aj^ainst  the  first  principles  of  economical  stueoowl 
The  Government  uf  Holland  is  a  great  trading  corpuradun,  but 
notwithstanding  its  present  prosperity,  obtained    under   cxee^ 
tioiial  circumstances,  it  certainly  does  not  present  an  example  tn 
be   followed.     If  the  voluntnrv  enterprise  of  a  people   does  noi 
take  the  direction  of  commerce,  such  a  people  doe*  not  possai 
the  necessary  elements  of  commercial  success.    It  has  been  stated 
th.it  the  cupitalistj*  of  Belgium  have  30<),000,()(X)  florins  iavest«<l 
in    the    Austrian    funds.*       If  profitable    employment    could   bcj 
found  for  tltis  large  capital  in  commerce,  it  it-rtainly  woold 
remain  thus  lockml  up.      Attempts  to  force  a  foreign  tnule  liatcl 
always  failed.      A  few  years  ago  a  society,  termed  the  'Socit-t*] 
Beige    Americaine,'  was   established    for   direct   trsulo    between' 
Biflgium  and  the   Southern   States  of  America.     *l*he  Compuj 
began  Itn  ojieraliims  bv  iles{>ntching  a  srhvt  assortment  of  Be^^n 
manufactures  for  exhibition  and  sale;  but  the  entrrprisn  proml 
ft  total  failure,  and  the  Company  was  wound  up  at  a  ccmsiorrablr 
loss.     Another  and  earlier  scheme,  after  numerous  ihipnients  to 
Portugal,  the  Metlitcrraneaii,   the  East  ladies,  and  the  UnitnJ 
States,  in  which  the  Government  took  a  more  pnimincnt  put. 


Jieltpum. 


403 


also  failed,  oiid  involved  tli€'  State  in  a  Iims  nf  ncarlv  half  a 
niillloii  of  francs.  An  ociraittoiml  cx^xKiitltiii  ol' B<'lginn  produc- 
tions in  the  pnnci|>a)  ntercantile  lunrkcls  nf  tlir  irtirld  is  a 
3iip;c;(%tioii  l>ener  worthy  of  adoption  thaii  the  expcdit^nt  nf  a 
Helijian  mercantile  fleet,  convoycti  by  »bips  of  war,  rircum- 
iiaviji^tiii^  the  globe  in  search  of  outlets  for  manufactures. 

Tlie  apiiro|iriatfi  remedy  f«»r  the  evils  of  a  redundant  populatioa 
is  eiiii(;nition.      If  BelKium   [KKse&jtes  mort'  merhanic*  llian  she 
can  Hnd  profitable*  rmplovinent  for,  and  her  agricultural  popula- 
tion is  already  fully  ad«-quatc  tu  her  wants,  there  nre  vast  regions 
of  the  New  World  wnitinf;  for  the  surplus   lalxpur  uf  tlie  Old. 
'Ships,  commerce,  and  colonies'  have  becu  said  to  be  the  g^at 
recuperative  agents  of  Belgium.      Coloni/^tion  has  been   tried, 
hvit  with  unfortunate  results.     Emigration  to  some  of  the  South 
American    i>tates    is    encouraged,    and   is  now  pru<lucing  good 
results  in  reltevini^  the  country  fn>rn  iiome  of  its  starving  artisatu^- 
wliose  wages  have  been  long  reduced  to  almost  tlie  lowest  point 
compatible  with  human  existence.     The  manufacturing'  iwpulA- 
tion  of  Ghentf  itotwithsL-inding  its  highly  protectcil  industry,  is 
in  a    more   impoverished  condition   tlian    almost   any  other  in 
Europe,     'llie  wages  of  the  workmen  are  barely  sullicient  to  buy 
bread  and  a  little  cheap  spirit  to  produce  a  temporary  (oblivion 
of  their  sufferings.     DcmoraliratioD  and  discontent  arc  the  neces- 
sary result  (»f  this  liopeless  p<iverty.*      Emigration  is  the  suitable 
remedy.     The  Stat*'S  of  North  .America  no  longer  offer  induce- 
ments to  European  settlers  ;  but  in  the  improving  em ]>ire  of  Brazil 
Belgian  |>t>verty  will  fin<l  a  land  teeming  with  the  elements  of 
future  wealth  and  happiness.    Emigration  to  this  magnificent  coun- 
trj-  i*,  we  find,  on  llic  increase.     The  number  lliat   left  Antwerp 
for  Brazil  in  l>45y  amounted   only  tit  197,  Init   in  t}ie   following 
year  it  increased  to  1441  ;  and  a  contract  has  just  b(*en  entered 
into  by  the  Bmxilian  Government  with  a  commercial  house  at 
Antwerp  for  the  regular  shipment  of  artisans  desirous  of  settling 
in  thi"  empire.      Oerman   emigrants  have  not  always  been  well 
rereivi-tl    in  Brazil    on  accnunt  of  tliejr   Protestantism  ;  but  the 
uninipeaclmble  ortluidoxv  of  the 
addition  to  the  population. 

The  geographical  position  of  Belgium  not  only  was  the  cause 
of  its  former  commercial  greatness,  but  made  it  often  the  field 
on  which  tlic  Great  Bowers  of  Europe  brought  their  diflerences 
to  the  nrbitrenient  of  war.  In  close  proximity  to,  or  in  actual 
contact  with,  England,  France,  and  Germany,  it  furm»  the  jHiint 
of  intersection  uf  those  three  great   states.     The    neutrality   of 


Belgians  wakes  them  a  welcome 


*  See  the  Report  of  H.M.  Seeretar;  of  Legstioo. 


Belgium 


•I^ttm. 


liclg-tum  has  now  been  made  the  cnmlittoa  of  JU  Jodcpootlcnpe. 
Formerly,  on  tlie  breaking  out  of  a  Kuropcan  vnr^  it  wu  the 
uiiliappy  fale  ol"  this  country  to  be  almost  neccuarily  allied  to 
one  ur  the  other  of  the  cootendin^r  Powers,  and  to  have  iu 
han'csts  trodden  under  the  foot  nnd  its  soil  snlurotetl  tritli 
the  bluod,  of  their  armies,  in  contests  of  which  it  selihim  knew 
the  objects  or  cared  for  the  results.  A  ni-utrality,  pmtcvted  by 
Eunipe,  aow  relieves  it,  as  far  as  human  arrangcment«  can,  from 
the  possibility  of  again  fallinfj  under  a  similar  misfoi-tune.  'J'wu 
small  states  are  thus  exempt  from  the  calamities  of  war,  and 
wrmitted  to  pursue  without  anxiety  tbetr  peaceful  career^  ilevnhip 
tlieir  natural  resources,  and  enjoy  llieir  free  institutions,  TIic 
inviolBbilitv  of  the  liel^ian  territory  is  guarante<nl.  Kxpoaml 
by  its  geoftrapliical  jwsltiun  to  the  action  of  powerful  neiKbbouri| 
its  independence  is  not  secured  like  that  of  Switzerland  by  «tQ- 
pcndous  natural  baniers ;  but  in  aid  of  its  own  manhood  it  mutt 
rely  chiefly  on  those  political  and  moral  outworks  which  treaties 
afliiwl,  and  on  the  integrity  and  good  faitli  of  the  I'owrrs  tliat  hnrr 
imparted  to  It  a  natuinal  existence.  IVIf^lum  is  not  burthcncd 
wlthtJioii(<  nnfpunsi  hill  ties  which  wei};li  so  heavily  ou  );reat(*r  state*. 
The  rivalries  of  nations  need  not  ^catly  disturb  its  rc{H»c  unlcn 
they  should  tlireatcn  its  indciwndcnce.  This  exemption  from  tlir 
jierturbatinns  of  the  exterior  world  may,  jjerhaps,  Ik?  felt  at  time* 
as  Irrecnneileable  with  p<dttical  dignity ;  but  surh  an  attribute 
might  in  a  small  state  well  l>e  resigned  for  the  solid  advantages 
t>f  peace,  Becurily,  and  freedom.  Kelglum  will  c<iiif(T  an  im- 
portant benefit  on  the  worhl  if  it  should  demonstrate,  far  the 
instruction  of  aspiring-  nationalities,  that  constitutional  monarcfay^ 
is  not  only  compatible  with  tlic  most  comprehensive  lil>erty,  but^^ 
is  its  safest  depository  and  its  snrest  guardian.  ^n 

Mnglaiid  luis  a  param<iunt  interest  that  this  position  nf  Relglum 
sli;dl  Ik!  maititaini--(l.      On  tins  subject  tliere  ought  tii  be  no  mis- 
conception.    It  was  not  from  any  special  reganl  for   I'telglum      i 
that  its  independence  was  guai'nntecd,  but  for  the  common  bcuc6t^| 
of  Eunipe,    Tlie  indcpenilcnce  of  every  country  in  Eurujie  would" 
be  in  jeopanly  from  the  day  on  which  Belgium  ceased  to   be  k 
sovereign  Stiite ;  hut  for  England  in  particular  It  Is  a  vital  neces- 
sity that  it  should  remain  wii-b.      Whenever  n  Erenrb  armr  has      , 
set  a  hostile  foot  in  Belgium,  an  Kn^^lish  army  has  invariably  fol-^H 
luwed  to  confront  it ;  tliere  England  has  repeatedly  fought  tboflj 
battle  of  indr|)eiidencc,  instead  of  on  her  own  unpolluted  soil,  and 
tbere,  under  similar  circumstances,  she  would  assuredly  fight  i 
again. 

The  exj>ediifncy  of  stn-ngtbeniog  the  fortifications  of  Anfwe 
haWng  occupiCTi  the  alt4-ntiou  of    the  Belgian  Government,  \ 

CobdcJi 


Belgium.  405 

Cobden  has  recently  favoured  the  people  of  Belgium  with  his 
views  on  that  subject  In  a  letter  addressed  to  the  *  Economiste 
Beige,'  *  this  gentleman  has  taken  upon  himself  to  object  to 
the  scheme  as  not  merely  absurd,  but  calculated  to  invite  the 
very  dangers  which  it  was  its  object  to  avert  *  If  I  were 
King  of  the  Belgians,*  said  Mr.  Cobden,  '  and  wished  to 
transmit  the  crown  to  my  descendants,  I  would  keep  on  foot  an 
army  of  only  a  few  thousand  men  for  the  purposes  of  internal 
police,  and  rely  on  moral  force  alone  as  the  security  of  my 
throne.'  Talle^Tand  is  said  to  have  given  similar  advice  to  the 
King  when  about  to  take  possession  of  the  throne.  His  Majesty 
received  the  suggestion  of  the  great  diplomatist  with  a  great  de- 
monstration of  respect ;  but  he  lost  not  an  hour  in  organising  an 
effective  army,  and  in  putting  his  fortresses  in  a  satisfactory  state. 

Mr.  Cobden  is  moreover  reported  to  have  recently  stated, 
when  in  Belgium,  his  opinion  that,  when  the  period  comes  for 
France  to  assume  the  boundary  of  the  Rhine,  and  to  take  posses- 
sion of  Belgium,  Antwerp  would  prove  no  obstacle  ;  and 
that  a  majority  of  the  Belgian  people  would  assuredly  be 
found  to  demand  the  annexation.!  A  temporary  annexation 
of  Belgium  to  France  was  effected  under  the  Directory  ;  and 
Dumouriez,  the  General  charged  with  the  duty  of  bringing  it 
about,  afterwards  declared  in  the  Convention  that  the  consent  of 
the  jieople  had  been  obtained  by  terror  and  compulsion  alone. 
The  bayonet  and  the  sword  were  the  principal  persuasives  em- 
ployed. It  is  inconceivable  on  what  ground  Mr.  Cobden  can 
expect  a  foture  voluntary  union  of  Belgium  with  France.  The 
relative  weight  of  taxation  in  the  two  countries  is  greatly  in 
favour  of  Belgium.  An  inhabitant  of  France  contributes 
60f.  42c.  to  the  state ;  an  inhabitant  of  Belgium  only  22f.  41c. 
The  commerce  of  Belgium  is,  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the 
country,  three  times  greater  than  that  of  France.  It  is^prepos- 
terous  to  suppose  that  a  state,  so  rich  and  prosperous,  should 
willingly  consent  to  be  absorbed  into  the  empire  of  France. 
The  position  would  be  both  anomalous  and  humiliating :  the 
nationality  would  be  extinguished  ;  the  people  would  cease  to  be 
Belgians,  and  they  could  never  become  French. 

To  neglect  the  defences  of  Belgium  would  certainly  be  to 
invite  the  very  evil  which  the  neutrality  of  the  country  was 
intended  to  prevent.  It  was  not  a  feeble  and  helpless,  but  an 
armed  and  powerful,  neutrality  that  was  contemplated  by  the 

*  Dated  Midharst,24th  April,  1862. 

t  The  writer  proposes,  if  the  truth  of  this  BtBtemeDt  shonld  be  called  in  auee* 
tion,  to  give  his  authority,  and  the  date  and  place  of  the  coQTenation,  Richard 
Cobden,  Roi  des  Beiges,  p.  46. 

Great 


Great  Povrers  H'lien  they  g-uaraiileed  the  iotegritv  of  the  new 
kiri^iloni  which  they  were  it>L-eiviii^  uitu  Uie  political  system  of 
Kurope.  But  a  country  relying  wholly  on  the  Ibrbcanmcc  and 
j»it>lection  of  other  stAtcs  fur  it»  scfurity,  is  placwl  in  a  ptisitiim 
nllop'thiT  incoinpaTible  wiib  sclf-rfspect.  It  was,  thrrfifore, 
arranged  that  Ilolgiuin  should  possess  a  natioual  army,  and  thut 
certain  fortresses  should  be  kept  up.  'J'hesc  nblig'ations  the 
Bcl;rian  nation  fceely  took  upon  itself.  The  iJc>l<;ian  army, 
which  does  not  prws  unduly  on  the  finances  of  the  countrj',  ou^ht 
to  be  a  considcrahjt*  one ;  and  it  is  the  recorded  opinion  of  the 
great  Duke  to  whom  Belg-iuiu  owes  so  much,  that  fortifications 
arc  of  far  greater  imjiortance  tu  the  country  since  its  se|>arati(>u 
from  Holland  than  before.  They  were  iuceude«l  to  deter  a 
powerful  neighbour  I'rom  even  contemplatin;!  ag^ro^iiion.  Ant- 
werp well  garrisoned  would  afford  time  for  other  Powers  to  come 
to  the  support  of  a  people  whose  territory  had  been  invaded,  and 
whose  independence  n.isthreatcnetl.  Tlie  opinions  of  Mr.  C-olKlen 
on  the  del'enre*  and  tlie  destiny  of  Ileli;ium  .ire  about  as  v.iluable 
OS  thoM!  witii  which  he  Is  in  the  habit  of  favouring  his  own 
cuuntrymcn  upon  simitar  topics.  'Vhe  uncallc<l-fur  ubtrusioo  uf 
his  sentiments  in  reference  to  a  people  whom  he  consider*  as 
destined  Ut  political  annihilation,  is,  as  he  has  probably  dis- 
coverer), no  less  repugnant  to  their  pride  tlian  it  is  insulting  to 
their  patriotism. 

*J'hc  frequent  alliances  *vhicii  have  taken  place  between  Hnj^ 
land  and  the  provinces  which  now  constitute  the  Kingdom  of 
liclgium  prove  that  the  political  interests  of  the  two  countries 
are  almost  identical ;  but  moral  affinities  are  often  more  efficacious 
in  unittnc  nutions  than  treaties.  An  ardent  love  of  liberty,  n 
tasU*  for  natural  scenerv,  an  entluisin<itir  attachment  to  ap;ninilturc, 
an  appret:iation  of  domestii*  cotnlort,  iind  liive  ft(  a  country  life^ 
characterise  alike  the  people  of  Hetpium  and  Kn^rland. 

\(  it  should  t>e  asked,  what  interests  uf  Knj^lamf  would  now 
be  jeopaixiised  if  Belgium  should  ever  pass  into  the  po^sessiua 
of  rranci; — we  reply,  tlie  same  ns  when  Napoleon  1.,  with  a  just 
apprLTinlion  of  its  inipnrtantv,  tteclarcil  Uiat  Antwerp,  in  the  p<js- 
session  of  I'nmce,  would  always  l»e  a  loaileil  pistol  diiectetlal  llie 
heart  of  England.  The  new  conditions  under  which  maritime 
warfare  must  Ik-  wugi^d  greatly  increase  the  force  of  Napoleon's 
celebrated  sayiii;;.  The  vast  nmouitt  of  iron,  c(jnl,  dock  accom- 
modatiou,  and  machinery  which  Belsrium  would  place  at  tlie  com- 
inand  of  France  renders  it  impossible  that  Kn^tand  should  ever 
acquiesce  in  such  an  annexation.  A  remarkable  addition  lu  tlm 
testimony  of  Napoleon  as  to  tlie  value  of  Antwerp  in  the  bauds  o: 
Fraiiue  is  tu  be  fuund  m  the  icccnlly  published  volume  ot   the 

Emjwror' 


I 
I 


Belffium. 


407 


Emperor's  Con-espniiJence.  He  there  reiterates  his  opinion  that 
tbo  possessiun  ut'  Antwerp  would  be  of  immense  importance  to 
France,  and  assijfus  as  oui*  reaiion  fur  that  opinion,  that  shipbuild- 
insf  roiild  there  lie  tarried  un  with  safety  during  a  war  widi  Great 
iirilniii.  We  entertain  no  doubt  nf  the  loviilty  and  p»iid  faith  ni 
the  Kni|Mri*nr  \a|K>letm  111.  in  his  present  jiolitiral  relatiims  with 
England;  but  he  must  h<y  a  bold  [lolitirian  who  would  ventura 
to  predict  the  action  of  France  in  any  succewlinp  phase  of  her 
revolution.  T^ie  sa^^city  of  the  King  of  t)ie  iBelgians  is  acknuw< 
leilg'^l  Ummghout  KuR>pp.  He  hns  einjdiatically  dfclnred  tltnt 
the*  acquisitiun  itf  (he  iMiundarv  iif  the  llhine  involves  liic  ulti- 
mate seiieun-  of  Belgium,  'llie  |H>sseasion  of  the  Klieitish  piiH 
viiices  cJndd  only  he  eftectually  secured  by  the  annexation  of 
Beljfium.  It  must  ho  obvious  that  without  it  tlie  jiosition  of 
Fnuiee  would  be  stmtcgirnllv  untenable,  if  she  should  ever  [>o5S(»s 
hcrM>lf  uf  tliat  h>ttg-eovetiHl  terrltorv  now  held  bv  Prussia  to  die 
west  of  the  Khinc.  The  defence  uf  her  pniviucra  is  the  uitfre 
immediate  duty  of  Prussia;  hut  the  interests  of  England  are 
scarcely  less  involved  in  their  protection. 

The  best  security  uf  Belgium  lii.-s  in  the  total  absence  uf 
any  pretext  for  aggrrssiun  on  the  part  of  her  |K>werful  neif^hhour. 
The  pupuUtiun  have  exjiressnl  no  desire  to  form  an  hiteginl  jiart 
of  tin?  French  empire  ;  and,  even  if  tliey  had,  die  interest*  of 
tlic  other  Furojieau  States  would  overrule  such  predilections,  an4l 
require  that  the  last  territorial  arran)rc-ment  should  not  be  dis- 
turbed. But  the  [wople  of  Jk'lL^ium  are  proud  of  their  inde- 
pendence ;  and  it  would  be  a  hazardous  ejtixrlinent  to  apply 
to  this  State  the  notable  expedient  of  a  pUbiseite  to  test  its 
political  preferences.  To  reduce  it  to  servitude  by  the  trick 
of  the  ballot  would  be  beyond  the  skill  even  of  the  most  exi)c- 
rienccd  adept  in  dmt  modem  device.  There  may  be  a  {eve  tra- 
ditions whieli  connect  the  jx'oiiie  with  France,  but  the  con- 
dition of  Belgium  in  l^tJ2dLfler8  entirely  from  tlwt  tii'  17')5.  The 
people  would  certainly  never  willin};]y  exchan^  their  free  insti- 
tutions for  a  despotiiim,  although  that  despotism  might  make 
them  part ici|)a tors  of  the  *  glory '  of  Framce.  Belgium  only  desires 
to  pujsue  her  industrious  career,  and  to  enjny  her  free  cnnsti- 
liitino.  It  might  have  been  more  c-onducive  to  Uie  interests  of 
Kumjie  if  the  permanent  union  of  Holland  and  I^cl^iuni  could 
have  been  (•fTected,  t\x\i\  the  two  countrii>s  formeil  into  one  hom</- 
gcneous  state;  but  insuperable  obstacles  presented  themselves 
to  the  amalgamation,  and  it  is  the  duty  uf  statesmen  to  nei^uiesec 
in  such  H  sidntioii  of  the  |iolitiral  problems  which  present  thein- 
sehes  as  uncoJitroUable  events  bring  about. 

The 


408  Beaton. 

The  influence  of  the  Bel^an  rerolntion  npon  HteratnTe  and 
science  has  been  rerv  mailied.       The  intellect  of  the  people 
receired  a  i^^eat  impulse  bv  the  civil  and  religioos  liberty  which 
they  acquired.     More  important  publications,  in  every  branch  of 
human  knowJedsre,  hai-e  issued  from  the  press  since  1830  than 
in  the  150   precedin*  years.      Coincident   with   their   revived 
nationality  has  been  the  desire  of  the  Belgian  people  to  study 
the  historv  of  the  past,  and  to  restore  the  use  of  a  language  in 
which  manv  great  writers  have  embodied  ^eir  thoughts,  and 
conferred  a  literary  immortality  npon  th«r  counby.     M.  Dele- 
pierre,  in  his  useful  work  which  stands  at  the   head   of  this 
article,  has  given  an  account  of  manv  writers  who  ought  to  be 
better  known  than  they  are  to  English  readers.     Nor  has  the  effect 
of  political  independence  been  less  marked  in  giving  increased 
importance  and  higher  development  to  art.    While  the  painters  of 
Holland  hare  been  content  with  that  traditionary  style  which  is 
represented  in  its  well-known  school,  several  of  the  painters  of 
Belgium  have  soared  into  loftier  regions.     We  took  occasion  in  a 
recent  number*  to  comment  €hi  this  contrast   between   Holland 
and  Belgium,   and  the  decline  of  art  which  followed  generally 
upon  the  decay  of  political  power  and  national  prosperity  in  the 
Low  Countries ;  and  we  pointed  out  that,  while  there  had  been 
no  revival  in  the  condition  of  Holland  as  respects  art,  the  suc- 
cessful   struggle   for "  political    independence,   and  the   national 
prosperity  which   has   been  its  result,  had  given  a  decided  im- 
pidse  to  painting  in  Belgium.    The  cu'twdcd  state  of  the  Belgian 
gallery    in    the    International    Exhibition,     and     the    attraction 
which  the  jwwerful  pictures  of  Gallait,  Levs,  and  other  eminent 
painters  never  fail  to  present,  show  that  these  great  artists  possess 
the  power  of  affecting  the  jwpiilar  mind   as  well   as   of  exciting 
the  admiration  of  intelligent  coiuioisseurs.     The  Belgian  gallery 
must,  we  think,  have  taken  the  world  by  siirprise.     It  would  be 
impossible  here  to  enter  upon  a  critical  analysis  of  its  contents, 
which  have  been  elsewhere  sufficientlv  discussed  ;  but  in  justice 
to  Belgium,   we  could  not  omit  to  notice  the  very  marked  de- 
velopment which  has  taken  place  within   tlie  last  thirtv  vears 
in  a  country  so  illustrious  in  the  annals  of  painting. 

There  is  perhaps  scarcely  any  countrv  in  Europe  which  excites 
so  little  interest  in  casual  visitors,  notwithstanding  its  many 
attractions,  as  Belgium,  The  traveller  passes  often  hurriedly 
through  it  to  more  in\-iting  lands,  casting  perhaps  a  rapid  glance  at 
its  garden-like  landscapes,  and  seeing  too  often  only  in  the  distance 

•  No.  SIS,  p.  494. 

its 


Belffi 


um. 


400 


iU  imhlp  cnthedrals  and  grnnd  civic  ediRces,  nnritl  whit  sculpturnl 
BVinlwIisin,  and  tlie  pride  of  former  generations.  Hut  who  tliat 
has  ever  linn;firpd  on  ilie  iKinks  of  the  Meusc  ova  frtrget  tlie  suc- 
cession of  enchanting  scenes  which  recall  some  of  the  j;lorious 
pi'/tures  of  Claude,  and  arc  as  suggestive  to  the  devotee  of  art  as 
to  the  h>ver  of  nature ;  or  the  more  contracted  bnt  scarcely  less 
lovely  mllev  of  the  Vesdre,  whtwe  bright  and  shollow  waters 
pursue  thiMF  rapid  coursi:  under  the  shallow  of  richly-wooded 
bills  crowned  with  picturesque  and  tasteful  chateaux?  Th« 
magnificent  old  towns,  long  the  wonder  of  Europe,  rich  in  the 
treasures  of  art  anti  in  historicnl  associations,  stiEI  present  objecis 
of  inexhaustible  interest,  and  arc  worthy  of  tlic  highvst  admi- 
ration. G>niparatiTely  dcserteil  row,  they  were  once  trnddiTi 
by  industrious  multitudes  who  supplied  Kurope^ith  most  of 
ttie  luxuries  and  the  conveniences  of  life.  The  stillness  of 
their  quiet  streets,  once  fiMc<l  with  the  busy  hum  of  men  and 
alive  with  pilitical  agitation,  is  now  scarcely  bn)ken  hut  by 
tlioiiu  chimes  whose  music  has  been  heard  by  su  many  surcessivD 
geii-.*mtions,  and  wbich,  while  thev  proclaim  the  flight  of  lime, 
set->m  to  speak  of  ages  Uint  are  gone,  ainl  to  connect  the  pre- 
sent willi  the  jiitst.  For  our  countrymen  the  fields  of  Belgium 
possess  an  interest  which  time  can  never  destroy ;  on  them 
tlie  licst  blood  of  England  has  from  time  immemorial  been  freely 
Blicd  to  secure  the  independence  of  Europe,  the  essential  condi- 
tion <if  her  own. 

A  Soven^ign  must  lie  endowed  with  high  qualittes  whose 
political  influence  is  in  an  inverse  pitiportion  to  the  extent  of 
'lis  dominions.  King  Leopold  has  displayed  on  the  tlinme 
of  Belgium  the  same  moderation,  propriety,  and  good  sense 
wbicb  marked  his  short  connexion  with  England.  To  his 
(Tue  conception  of  the  position  and  duties  of  a  constitutional 
King,  Uelgitiin  is  chiefly  indebted  for  the  tranquillity  which  it 
has  enjoyed  since  its  indeptnidence.  It  is  U*  be  hoped  tbnt  his 
important  life  may  be  long  spared  for  tbe  benefit  of  his  country 
and  of  Europe,  The  State  whose  infancy  be  has  nurtured, 
ftllliough  devoid  of  the  imposing  greatness  ot  other  kingdoms, 
jwisseMCS  some  attracticms  peculiarly  its  own.  As  a  truly  con- 
stitutional monarchy  it  stands  almost  ahme  on  the  continent  of 
Europe — but  it  stands  by  tbe  side  of  a  despotism  to  which  it  is  an 
object  at  once  of  cupi<!ity  and  dislike.  As  a  Roman  Cotholic 
State  it  exhibits  to  the  worlil  nn  cxnmple  worthy  of  all  respect,  of 
a.  |>eople  retaining  its  ancient  fnidi,  yet  struggling  successfully 
against  the  dumitialion  of  an  IFltmrnontane  prii-sthi.Hxl.  As  an 
industrial  country  It  jhisscsm-s  ninj>le  nipitiil,  atlmirable  roa<Is 
and   canals,  charitable  institutions  formed  not  merely  to  rcUcrc, 

but 


410  The  Watcrlw  of  77«>r* 

but  to  prevent  destiiutiou,  mx  elastic  revenue,  a  soil  turned  ti» 
the  must  profitable  account  by  laburious  iiidiutrv,  laws  jiulici- 
ously  I'ratncd  aiiU  well  adtniiii^tercd,  and  a  girucrall}'  pnisperoos 
and  contented  jjcople. 


4 


Art.  V. — 1.  L'J/igtoire  du  Conmlat  et  de  f  Empire.     Par  M.  A. 

Thiers.     Ttimc  xx..  Livre  ler.     Paris,  1862. 
2.   I^s   Misrnifjles.       Par    Victor    Hiiro.      Deuxjeme    Piirtie — 

Cosette.     Tome  iii.      Bnixelles,  1862. 

A  DISCUSSION  t<K>k  place  between  the  members  of  a  jarjr 
at  tbe  treat  lixliibition  uf  lUbl  on  the  award  of  a  Oiuncil        . 
medal,      It   was  urge<l   liy  a  distinguished   Frenehmun   Ui»t  thai  ^| 
medul  ouglit  to  be  ^iven  to  one  of  his  eountryinen,  not  on  atximnt  -^^ 
of  the  BU|K'nority  uf  the  articles  lliat  lie  exhibited,  but  Itecouae 
he  wu  esteemed  in  France  It)  be  the  first  manufacturer  of  such  ^^ 
articles.     It  was  in  fact  impossible,  for  that  rr.ison,  tn  send  him  ^M 
back  to  his  country  witliout  such  a  medal.     The  same  principle 
— whic^h   we  fdir  ia  a  natitnml  rhiiracteristic — of  allowing  iui- 
jiartiality   to  t;ivi>  May  U>  ex]N->dieiicy,    n   prominently  displayed 
in    buth  of  the   works    before    ua.      The  authors  diflcr,  indeed, 
widely  from  each  4)ther  in  the  treatment  of  iheir  subject,  as  \bey 
notoriously  do  in  their    views    and   aspirations.       The  one,  a 
statesman    of    the  Monarcliv,    issues  a   separate  volume  vu  thei 
campnig-ii  of  lMl5,  as  jxirt  of  a  pretentious  Histtiry  ;  the  other,  ■ 
Stiiti:stnnn  of  th^f   Ki>v<>luticin,  iiitrtiduces  a  dirtailetl    rhajisoily  nn 
the  battle  of  WaterliMj  ialu  die  }ias'^  "1*  "  romance.      M.  Adulphe< 
Thiers,  as   might   be  exjiected,  denounces   Napoleon  ai  a   bail 
politician;  and  M.  Victor  Hugo,  '  wlio  brings  a  mind  no(  to  Affj 
rJuuigcfl  by  pUtce  or  lime'  and   rontinuc^s  to  advocate  * /e  droU^ 
a|;ain!)t  *  ia  li/iy    auHMts  tliat  his    dtmnfall    was    directly   due   to 
Oivitie  interference  in  ('onsct(Uence  of  the  misery  which  he  had 
tauicd.     But  they  are   both  writing  for  French  readers.    They 
evidently  concur  with  Dr.  Johnsuu  and  older  wTitcrs  in  believing' 
that  '  men  arc  willing  to  credit  wliat  they  wish,  and  encounige^y 
rather   those  who  gratify  them   with  pleasure,   than  those  Uiat^H 
instruct  them  with  fidelity.*     They  have  b<»th  felt  that  it  would ^^ 
l)o  im]ioasible  to  repiesent  Napideon  otlierwise  than  as  a  perfect 
military  hero  in  command  of  perfect  soldiers,  and  that  it  was 
necessary  to  prove  tlie  reverse,  as  far  as  possible,  regarding  the 
oupuiients  against  whom   he    rushed    headlong   lu   destruc-tioo. 
Their  ingenuity  and  their  honesty  have  been  sorely  taxed  in 
attempt ;  ajid  the  romance  of  the  liistorian  is  more  incorrect 
well  as  less  vigorous  than  that  of  the  novelist. 

M.  Tiiicn 


vos 

the      I 
00.^1 

'^ 

-iei»     . 


and  Victor  Hugo. 


m 


M.  Thiers  commences  by  describing:  iIir  general  njirrutions  »f 
Nnpoleun  between  the  25lli  March  and  tbe  l^th  Jime,  \^\h,  nnd 
the  way  in  which  he  organised  and  distributed  his  forces, — 
wbicli  latter  ' /i/i  teul  fmrmx  ies  gen^aux  anciem  et  ntudernes  a 
aUendu  au  mnm  tfegri?.'  He  $tfttes  truly  that  JiliichcT  and 
WelUngtun  di'lerminetl  Ui  u-niatn  on  the  iiortlit-rn  frontier  with 
their  armies  while  Schwarzenberg  was  making  his  preparations  im 
the  east ;  but  he  adds  erroneously  that  *  llwttyh  not  far  tliAtant 
from  each  other,  they  iccre  not  to  near  bid  tliat  he  could  jH-rutrate 
betusteii  tfiem,  jwiir  accomplir  He  yrunds  desteins.^  The  Prussians, 
he  says,  rested  upon  Lii'gc,  the  Englisli  u]»on  Brussels.  Tiiev 
bad  done  their  utmost  to  render  themselves  secure  hv  the 
numerous  posbi  which  they  occupiMJ,  but  *  a  In  iHanihv  drs 
esprits  de  second  ordre^  t/wi  entrevoient  plutot  ^u'ils  »f  voietit  leu 
cnotesJ'  They  were  not  conneeied  by  numerous  posts  on  the  sides 
nf  theSamhre,  nor  did  thai  river  sepnrale  ttiem.  as  M.  'nuers, 
who  his  not  suffirientlv  studied  the  map,  would  have  u»  believe. 
Napoleon,  with  the  roHji-d'o-il  which  nature  bad  maile  so  uuick, 
and  experience  so  sure,  saw  riearly  from  Paris — (as  M.  Tbier*! 
supposes,  but  certainly  not  as  the  event  proved) — the  weak  poiu 
at  which  he  would  Ir*  able  to  introduce  his  army  U-twecn  their 
cantimmente.  He  determined  to  defeat  them  one  after  the  other, 
Xo''  rtfoulpr'  the  PniSHiaus  *  sur  fa  Meiisfi,'  and  to  '  ocrj/Zer '  thr 
Knplish  '(1  la  mer.'  Hut  tlipy  could  mit  divine  tlur  mute  bv 
whirli  they  would  be  attarked,  for  want  of  calculation,  vipilanee, 
information,  and  penetration,  and  for  v/ant  i>[  uii  t/i'nie  sviKn'eur 
at  their  head.  Napoleon  was  therefore  able  to  establish  himself, 
with  all  his  fore*^  artmnd  him, — ami  never  was  »  more  didirult 
O|ter:ition  more  happily  executed, — behind  u  thick  frirefit,  nithout 
the  A  Hies  being  aware  of  it.  This  was  tlie  state  of  aflairs  (accord- 
intrto  M.Tiiiers)  on  tlie  evening  of  the  Hth.  On  the  left,  D'Krlon, 
with  :in,()<J<)  inlamry  of  the  IsC  (Jorps,  was  at  Solo'-sur-iwmbre ; 
Rpilie  WHS  at  Leers — Fostean  on  the  same  liiH*,  with  the  2nd 
Corps  of  2;i,'K)0;  Gerard  sleiit  at  Philipjicvine,  on  the  road  from 
Met2,  with  15,000  or  10,000  men;  >  andamme  encamped  at 
Beaumont  with  tlic  3rd  Corps  of  1 7,000.  Then  there  were  Loimu 
with  10,000  of  the  ijth  Corps,  and  the  Guard  of  2l>,000.  The 
rnvnirc  were  massed  into  the  four  special  corps  of  Pnjol, 
Kxcebnans,  Kellerniann,  and  Milbaud.  the  whole  forming  IS.!**"* 
caenliers  agiierris,  under  Grouchy.  These,  with  4(HK)  or  .'VHMl 
meo  of  the  jMuks  and  njuipa^res,  formed  a  grand  total  of  124,{KH) 
veteran  troops,  of  whom  the  youngest  ba«i  mnde  the  campaigns 
of  im3  and  1814  ;  crying  *  Vive  fi.'mpereur !  '  with  military  and 
patriotic  fury,  and  animate^l,  not  by  rnthuaiasm,  but  by  fanaticism, 
and  even  uiin  vi'rltahle  rage  pour  rEmperaiT  at  eontre  se»  aniemis. 

They 


t. 


418 


T&«  Waterloo  of  Thiert 


They  liatl  not  tho  same  confidence  in  their  immediate  cluc£i,  but 
Napoleon  rurmnl  their  tie,  and  in  sccinj^  faim  they  fuum)  apniii 
^eir  unity.  They  'quivered  witli  MLtisfaction'  at  the  idea  (if 
meeting;  t)ie  ciieinvi  nml  tif  taltiti^  vnif^cance  ujxin  liini  for  the 
years  1813  and  1S14  ;  ami  'never  did  a  more  noble,  a  mure 
touchinj^  victim  rush  ninre  eagerly  to  immolate  itscU  on  what 
was  fur  it  the  altar  of  its  country/ 

We  do  not  wish  to  dispute  this  account,  Ihougli  it  is  some- 
what exagjrerated,  of  tlie  Frenrli  jiroeeedings.  There  is  no 
duiiht  tliat  Na)Kil(!on  ditijilayrd  his  well-known  genius  in  form- 
iu\g  plans  that  uiif:lit  have  Ix-en  &uct'L>}isfiil  against  le&s  formidable 
opponents,  aa  well  as  his  wonted  activity  in  maturing  hia  prepa- 
rations, lie  bad  mafviiificent  materials  to  work  with,  and  be  did 
all  that  man  could  do  in  concealing  bis  intentions,  and  suddenly 
collrctinj^  such  an  army  as  that  which  M.  Thiers  drscrilirs, 
wiUiin  fifty  miles  of  Ilnissels  and  Liege,  and  witliin  a  few  tnilcs 
of  the  En^liish  and  Prussian  outpoxts,  in  readiueast  for  carrying 
nnt  his  dai-ing*  projects.  But  he  made  the  fatal  mistake  nf  under- 
rating bis  adversaries,  and  supposing  that  he  should  be  able  to 
separate  tlieni,  at  the  same  time  tliat  ho  was  much  loo  coutideot 
in  his  own  power  and  resources.  M.  Thiers  is  unable  to  see,  or 
to  aihnit,  these  errors,  e*-en  aft<-T  Oiev  have  been  amply  demoo- 
strateil  hv  tlie  event.  When  lie  goes  on  to  aild  that  the  Duke  nf 
Wellington,  nliose  quickness  of  appiehensioo  was  at  fault,  thought 
of  nothing  but  hi:^  communications  with  the  sea,  with  regard  In 
which  tlicrc  was  nothing  to  fear;  that  VVcHtngton  and  Bliichcr 
had  neglected  the  point  de  aoudm'c  between  their  cuntunracnts) 
that  Wellington  neglected  to  take  even  ^mt'diormt'  precautions  lo 
guard  against  a  sudden  apjK^arancc  of  the  French ;  and  that  of 
ihh  last  <laiiger,  by  far  the  most  real,  the  AlUed  Generals  hatl  nu 
conception  (nnvmfui  rien  cnirtrit) ; — we  must  at  once  join  issue 
with  him,  and  tell  bim  plainly  that  the  Allied  Generals  were  not, 
as  a  fact,  surprisetl,  cither  Ju  a  military'  sense  or  in  the  ordinarj 
acceptation  of  the  word,  by  the  attnek  of  Napoleon.  Tliey  hail 
foreseen  the  probability  of  it  long  before,  and  provided  against 
it  They  deliberately  took  up  the  positions  that  they  oceupieil 
— the  Prussians  along  the  line  of  the  Meuse  and  the  Sambre  in 
rommunication  with  the  British  in  front  of  Mons,  and  tb« 
Dritish  in  the  triangle  between  Brussels,  Oudenarde,  and  Mati- 
bfuge — as  being  the  best  for  resisting  such  an  attack  which 
their  other  rtecessities  would  permit,  And  M.  Thiers  does  not 
venture  to  tell  us  how  they  ct^uld  have  done  better.  He  would 
not,  we  presume,  have  exjK-cted  them  to  concentrate  their  forcci 
cither  at  Ligny  or  in  front  of  Waterloo  Ix'forc  Napoleon  quitted 
Pkris.    If  tliey  had  dones<>,  they  would  have  left  tlu;  remainder uf 


and  Viftor  Jlv^, 


413 


coantry  at  his  mnrcy,  havp   placed  tbcmsnlvoi  in  (lifBcDltics 

fnr  provisions  iiikI  supplies,  niiil  have  rmilon-il  ihemsclvrs  linlile 
tn  Im  rut  off  fruin  thrir  Ikisps  nt"  (>|ktuUiiiis.  'Hioy  illil,  intUTil, 
Tii'tiiin  llie  jfi'cater  ]iarl  i)f  iheir  armtCB  wilhin  ii  ilaj's  inmxU 
rcsjH'Liively  of  those  fields;  and  thev  asserabled  ihem,  whcfii  iba 
necessity  arose,  with  sulKcieut  mpidity  to  Jrustratc  Napoleon's 
prujretd  ;  in  sjiiti*  of  the  sudtlennrss  and  se^crocv  witli  which 
ills  (ipcmtiuns  wlti'  t'unducrted,  iif  \\w  niaf^uificciit  nrmy  whieh 
lie  had  at  his  disposal,  und  of  thi!  de$|iemt(>  valour  hy  which  it 
was  animated. 

VVe  are  the  more  anxious  to  make  this  im)>ortant  point  clear 
because  one  uf  our  own  historians.  Sir  Archibald  Alison,  has 
also  accusc^tl  the  Duke  of  WoUinf^ton  and  Alarshal  Illiit-lipr  nt 
hrin^  snrprlsetl  and  out-nianii!Uvre<l.  Sir  Archibald's  liillacii.'s 
werr  pointed  out  in  tlu'sc  jjii;ji'J5  bv  the  first  Lord  Kllesnierc,* 
whose  K^snys  on  these  and  other  subjects  have  since  been  rc- 
pruited  with  his  name  attached  to  them  ;  and  we  will  now  give 
a  few  facts  and  dates  that  cannot  be  disputed,  tu  show  further 
how  entirely  cn)und)fs5  such  an  accusation  is. 

The  Duke  of  WeiUngtoii  wnrte  to  Lord  Stewart  as  far  back  as 
the  8th  uf  May:  '  I  say  nothing  .iliout  (tur  defensive  o|)erati<>D8, 
because  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  BUicher  and  I  are  so  well 
united,  and  so  strong,  that  the  cnejny  cannot  do  us  much  mis- 
chief;* and  be  cxprcssctl  in  the  same  letter  a  strong:  opinion 
a^inst  *cxtciHling  themselves  furllier  lliau  was  ntsolutely  nec^^s- 
sar>-  for  the  subsistence  of  the  troops.'  On  the  Otli  May  he 
wrote  himself  to  the  commandant  of  the  Prussian  trt«)ps  at 
Charleroi  to  warn  him  that  the  French  were  eolleftcil  belweeoj 
Valenciennes  an<l  Maubcugc,  and  appearcil  rather  to  threatcii 
Maubcutre,  On  the  Gth  June  he  wrote  to  Sir  Ilcnry  Hardinge, 
at  the  Prussian  head -quarters,  saying:  'All  accounts  which  E 
receive  from  the  frontier  appear  tigain  to  concur  tn  the  luitiou  of 
a  collection  of  troops  aImuI  Maubeuge.  Buonaparte  was  ex- 
pecteil  to  be  at  Laou  on  the  6th,  and  there  wert;  on  all  parts  of 
the  road  Iwtween  Paris  and  the  frontier  extraordinary  prepara- 
tions for  the  movement  of  troops  in  carriagej.  The  numb^-rs  of 
the  latter  are  immense  in  some  of  the  towns,'  On  the  H)th  June 
lie  wrote  to  liim  ngnin :  'I  have  received  intelligence  that 
Bnonapartc  arrived  at  Mauheiige  yesterday,  and  I  believe  he  ba< 
gfme  along  the  frontier  towards  Lille.'  On  the  14th  he  received 
(as  well  as  BUicher)  various  accounts  from  the  Prussian  out]>usts 
and  fnim  Mons  of  the  movements  of  the  enemy.     On  the  15lh 


*  *()usncTl3r  UfrTlew,*'Lire  of  Biacber.'Bepl.,  I94S,  and  ■  MannoDt, Sit 
and  J^ou,'  June,  1345. 


be 


4X4 


The  Waterloo  (tf  Then 


be  received  two  dt^patchrs  froTii  General  Zielcn  near  Charleroi 
—one  at  V  A.M.  and  tlie  other  ot  10  p.m.  At  3  P.M.  the  Princr 
of  Oranpe.  who  hnd  ridden  ti>  the  front  from  Braine  le  Comte  at 
&  A.M.,  reported  to  him  ;  and  at  4*30  he  Iconicd  fmni  CJencral 
Von  MiilHtng-,  iittnrhed  to  tlte  Hritish  bend -q unite rs,  that  the 
French  )iad  nltarked  the  I'l-uwtian  imt|t()8ta,  and  apjtesred  to  be 
advancin;;  upon  Charlemi.  lie  was  prepared  fur  tliis.  bat  ho 
knew  well  the  danger  of  makinir  a  j'ulsc  movement  before  such  a 
formidable  adversary*  as  Napoleon.  He  waited  wi&elv  until  the 
real  line  n(  attack  was  asrertained  lK-v"i>d  a.  doubt,  nnd  only 
istttied  orders  on  that  duy  fin*  t-<Tlaiii  of  hm  tr(N>ps  to  move  ami 
others  to  Ik?  conrentrated  and  hidd  in  nMuliness.  He  wiiuhl,  uf 
course,  have  acUKi  diflereiitty  if  he  had  received  certain  inttdli- 
gcnre  as  to  the  Km[>cror's  intentions  at  an  earlier  date,  but  it 
was  not  his  fault  tliat  he  ilid  ii<it  tlo  so.  On  llie  same  evenlnjr, 
at  10  P.M.,  he  issiu-rl  furlhi-r  onlers.  On  the  next  day  he  diiet-led 
in  peiium  the  ciitillirt  at  (juatre-Iiras,  met  Ilttii  her  at  the  Wind- 
mill of  Bussv,  and  arran^d  with  him  for  further  opemtioas. 
By  the  nijcht  of  the  1 7th  be  had  collected  his  armv  t>n  the 
iwsition  in  front  of  Waterloo,  with  which  he  was  well  nc()UHiDtc<d, 
and  on  wbicli,  as  i«  notorious,*  be  had  kept  his  eve  for  some  time 
previously  as  the  probable  scene  of  a  deeisive  battle.  And  liere 
this  surprised  ami  (lut-nianojiivred  Cieneral  cauglit  bis  superior 
Bud  too-confidcnt  as»iitant  in  as  well-laid  and  complete  a  trap 
88  7:f,000  veterans  and  340  ^uns  could  possibly  fall  into. 

Id  oar  opinion  these  facu  alone   satiifBctorily  couinte   M. 

*  The  (lefenc*  of  itio  Ni>thbrIandA  froolter  wai  no  new  suhj^ct  ta  (lie  Duke  ti 
Wi-lHti|[tnn.  He  bwl  dcvutiil  to  it  i»  tht?  nn-vious  j'rar  a  iiiailcrl)-  KtemorsQdvin, 
wliicli  will  (m>  round  in  hu  Dr«fiiito>i('K,  vol.  Tti.  p.  5<,4  fed.  I'^SS;,  nnd  frcMO  which 
wc  subjoin  sn  «trsct  ;— 

*  I  do  not  cariKidvr  thai  in  s  tnnnoniadiiin  of  this  dHcriptioD  it  is  dmrsbti\  nor 
in  tlic  ciir*or7  view  which  I  have  takon  of  the  X«tli«rliind.4  csii  it  b«  i-xpocted, 
tliat  1  nliDiild  point  out  (h«  {MKtitiuji*  lu  Ix.-  taken  by  tti<!  di*{ioMible  ani)ie«  which 
C9II  bv  sitotiin  Tiir  their  d>-fL-iicv.  TliiiMt  which  I  should  (xiiiil  »ni  would  be  pood 
or  Ind  Rc^rdiiigto  thi^  strviigth  with  which  th«T  ihooltl  tw  ormpied,  sccorilirij;  to 
thai  of  tliL-  tMieaiv  ;  tiiid.  supposing  the  •.-uctu}  10  be  on  the  orfl-iiure,  according  to 
hi)^  pinii  iif  aiiack.  The  uiuc  D-iiMiiiiui/  ii|i]jlin  ui  iliv  furtitiojiiiaa  of  [Msitioiii 
tiffon.-huud  ft>r  smiicii  lo  occojif  rtcntiiiiHj-.  The  roniftrnlion  nf  ihcM  pocitt<MiS 
C»iiBO(  b«  ssiavt ;  ftnd,  in  s  country  mich  ns  ihvsF  prutiigOk**,  no  pofitioM  can  I>e 
taken  with  ftu  snnjr  wluoii  is  not  liable  to  b«  tarned,  oud  which  would  uol  bv  turut). 
if  Ih^  works  All  it  wert  to  be  prevlouil)'  const nictL-d. 

*  'I'hi-rc  arc,  how(^«r,  go"d  pot-itions  for  aii  smiy  st  La  Trinity  and  St  Itenaix. 
Iirhind  Toamuv  ;  nuoiliLT  l>ctwcc»  'I'ournay  sikI  Mass,  on  tlic  high  grounds  about 
Hlslon.  'rhi.Tc  lire  inanj'  piod  positions  about  Mons:  the  coarse  of  iho  llhiat 
fiom  Bincb  lownnis  Mout  would  affurd  KHnc  food  ones.  Alrout  Ni^L-llrs.  sod 
Ixrtwvrn  thai  and  Dilch,  there  are  niaiij'  advanlngfous  puiitiou^;  and  ihtt  rntmmr 
uf  the  t'oirl  iff  Soi-fliift,*  b^  tKt  hi^h  r-mitl  <i'Av  k  fnh/i  ta  ^riua>-/j  front  Iliwit,  l%arletviy 
nmt  ffamv,  t-onitl,  >/  totW  vpoti,  nford  nlKft.' 

'  Wb«t«  tlM  battk  nf  Wahirloo  wax  fbugbt  in  the  fuUDwiiig  year. 


I 


and  Vidor  Hugo. 

TUi'crs'  uAcn-rcjtvah'Kl  asscrtiunSf  tluit  Wellington  axu\  BIfirlier 
Deflected  their  jtohU  de  utudare.,  lliat  tlie^'  were  cle\*oiil  tif  fore- 
■igbt,  ami  that  tiiev  were  t^ikt-n  hv  surprise.  Indenl,  be  pretty 
wpll  disposes  of  them  himself  by  adilin^;,  with  a  strange  incon- 
jistency,  '  only,  instructed  by  the  lessons  of  Nnpoh-on,  to  keep 
themselves  well  cKisimI  the  one  to  the  otlier,  they  had  mulually 
promised  to  unite  on  the  lund  fniin  Naniur  tn  Brussels.,  io  llic 
erent  of  an  attack  towards  Charlenii/  M.  lliiers  is  ec|ua]lj 
le&sonable  and  sensible  ivhen  he  asserts  that  Napoleon  was  in  a 
position  on  the  15th  (while  a  lar^  proportion  of  his  army  was  still 
on  tlie  wning  side  of  the  Sambrc)  to  throw  GO.OOO  men  between 
the  Eng'lish  and  Prussian  armies  (each  of  whjrh  numbered  more 
than  100,000),  and  thus  to  render  llieir  reujiiuu  im|M>!i<iible. 

Dut    tlie    admirable    iirojecl  which    Naiiolcon   entertained    of 

driving'  the  Prussians  to  tlie  Hliiiie,  and  the  English  to  the  sea, 

waa  only  to  be  the  commencement  of  his  schemes.     The  first 

blow   thus  slniek  was  to  produce  in   Europe  an  *  ebraiilemcNt,* 

ntetcisiiijf  a    iiii-iUly  iutluence,  alike   up<m   the  divisions  of  the 

English  ParliaiiiiMit  and  uimhi   the  apprehensions  of  the  Austrian 

Cabinet.     He  wouhi  follow  it  up  by  throwing  himself,  with  fresh 

forres,   upon  Schwarzenberg,  whom  he  would  also  '^rameiier  au 

HAin  ;*  and  he  would  conclude  by  making  peace  with  a  dismajcU 

ICuFope.     If  he  met  with  reverses,  he  had  only  to  adopt  defensive 

operatttms,  and   ilispuie   tlie  natiunid   soil   fnot   by  foot  with   the 

•L'nrniy,  as  he  had  so  admirably  done  in   1H14  ;   and   'in   thii 

«ystem  he  did  not  neglect  a  single  chance  happy  for   tlie   country 

and  himself/     There  was  onlv  one  objection  to  it— that  he  might 

meet  with  a  great  defeat ;  but  the  Chambers  were  impatient,  and 

liis   superior    t>i>nctrBtioii  jwrceivcd  tlie   jiussibility  of  decisive 

success.      VVliiU-  the   gi-nius  of  jiolitlcs  consists  in  patience,  that 

<if  war  sees  uuicktv  where  tlie  blow  has  to  be  struck,  and  strikes 

iL      Therefoie    this   Imperial   genius   of  war  of  tlic    first   order 

Teiolved  to  tlirow  himself  upon  the  Allies;  and  all  the  first  steps 

which  he  took  with  that  object  were  singularly  successful.     Did 

it  not   occur  to    M.   Thiers,    while   penning   this  epigrammatic 

excuse  for  the  rash  enterprise  of  his  hei-o,  tliat  the  genius  of  war 

might  sometimes,  as  well   as  that  of  politics,  see  too   fast  and 

strike  too  rapidly  for  success? 

M.  Thiers  is  verv  wroth  with  Marshal  Ney  for  his  hesitation 
in  attacking  the  Euglisl   at  Uuatre-JJras:— 

'  This  Marshal  reasoned  similarly  to  YindAnnne,  Grouchy,  Fiyol, 
nd  Kxelioans  (xiV)  nt  Gilly,  who  boliuved  thnt  thuy  wuro  ntHiut  to 
tsgage  tho  whole  I'ni»mftQ  army.  Uc  thought  in  like  niniimr  that 
tho  ailv&iicod  guiird  of  Lord  Wellington,  which  ho  Kaw  iKiforc  liim, 
viHild  suddenly  fold  up  like  a  curtain,  uud  discuvtir  suun  thu  Englitdi 

Vol.  lli.— No.  224.  2  B  BTiny 


416 


37m:  IVntcrloo  of  Thiers 


I 


axmy  itaolf.  .  .  .  .  Hd  paused  bofom  the  cfpun  roiito  of  Qnafcr^Bru^ 

Hut  u  to  to/f,  bcforo  tho  fortuno  ef  Fnuoc,  trbieb   van  tl»<Te,  iind 
wUdt,  \ff  exteudiug  his  huid,  he  might  itifallitily  li&vo  acized  I    Whjii 
liaJ    lio   at   thifi   laaoK-Jit    hofiom   hiiu?     Eilsoutly  what  ho  aitw,   luuli 
uotiong  mora.     In  c&m:!,  the   Dtiico  of  Wellington,   rcmniuiiig  m' 
BnUMuff,  and  having  oi}iy  reoeived  vague  Hewn  tm  that  momiug,  bad 
mit  jrgt  otilurml  aii^ thiujj.' 

In  this  quutiitiun,  ami  in  a  great  deal  nioro  that  he  sayi  (D  th* 
•aae  effect,    Nt.   Thiers    is   wrong    iu    the    iiupreflsioas  tkat  he 
conveys,  as  well  aa   in  his   facts.     That  the  Doke  wa«  by  no 
means  so  inactive  or  to  ill-informed  as  he  wnuld  have  us  te 
believe,  xrc  have  alniady  shown.     The  position  of  Quatre-I^vi  ^^ 
was  not   fill   importiint  to  the  ItritiKh  as  Najioleou  bptii?ve()  it  1a^| 
Ite,  or   as  M.  Thitts  would  now  ifpreseut   it  to  be.      If  Nov  had  ^^ 
attarked  QuAtrc-Uraa  at   an  earlier  hour,  had  taken  possession  uf 
It,  and  had  advanced  beyumi  it,  he  would  only  then  have  encoan* 
tered  the  reinforcements  that  were  on  their  way  from  Nivelloi^^ 
and  Brussels  as  tliey  arrived,  and  would  have  been  the  more  liablff^l 
to  be  caught,  ns  he  fean'd,  by  the  Kngllsh  in  his  front,  nnd  tlic^^ 
Pnwianfl  in  his  rear.      Wellington's  priDel|ial  objeet  in  umMuing 
him  at  ^^atre-Bras  was  to  prevent  him  from  acting  on  titc  Hank 
of  tlte  Prussians.     As   it  hap]>enod,  he  was  outnumbered  and 
Iwau^i  back  tliere  at  the  close  of  the  day,  in  conaeqaence  of 
Najwlcon's  having  withdrawn   from  him   the   corps   of  Count 
d'hrlon,  which  be  hail  first  placet!  at  his  disposal.     The  pin 
of  attacking    t1ie    Prussians   nt  Lij^nv   witli   ^0,(MK>  men,   while 
Ney  held  the  Kngllsh  .^t   Lay  at  QuatrcvBras  with  40,000,  waa 
the  best  which  NapjUim  could,  undtT  llir  (rirrumstoiios,  adopt. 
But,  iu  truth,  he  knew  little    in   the  Ciisl  iuHt^nce  uf  what  he  had 
to  racounter  on  either  tic-Id.     He  imagined  that  the  Allies  would 
have  liad  neither  time  nur  inclination  to  collect  their  forces.     So 
ignorant  was  he  of  the  |K>!iitiinui  of  tlie  Fniflish,  and  so  little  did 
Ue  expect   to  meet   tluMii   im  tlin  way  to   Brussels,  that  he  wntte 
two  letters  to  N*'y  <m  the   Kith,  in  the   first  uf  which  he  dlrectiil 
him  to  be  at  Brussels  t\X  seven  o'clock  the  ucxt  morning ;  aiul  in 
rfie  second  of  which  he  assumed,  as  a  matter  of  high  probability, 
that  the  L'inglish  had  already  retired  from  Brussels  and  NiTcliai. 
Nor  did  he  anticipate,  on   die  morning  of  the  Ifitli,  the  Htubboni 
r«sistanee  which    he   encountprril  frnrn   *  Marshal   WimJirta ;'  he 
1i(f)M-fl  simply  Iu  dri>r  luick  iletnc-hMl  jMirtiouti  nf  the  Ino  unnica. 
iu  diflereiu  directions,  Uie  one  tiiwanU  Namur,  the  othtr  inwarda 
Biuiisels.      His  Generalu,  who  luid  previuusly  fought  against  Wel- 
lington and  British  troops,  were   less  cuufident,  and  more  wiAo;] 
and  Ncy's  hositatiou  was  not  only  natural,  but  pnuscwurthy. 
bravery,  determination,  and  devotion  to  the  Emperor,  were  fulli 

proved ] 


■ 


and  Victor  HtUfO. 


417 


prnYcd  bv  ftuliwqucnL  ovi>iiU,  Iwtli  nti  tliat  ilay  at  QuaUt^RniSt 
aiid  'iire-eininuutfy  on  the  ]8tli  at  Watt-rloo.  They  are  liigUy 
upplaudixl  by  M.  Thiers,  uimI  van  Im;  (hiii))t«l  by  «"  one, 

N'apctlron  has  himsell  bireu  blaiimcl  lui  dt-Uyiu^  hu  attack  at 
Liguv,  and  M.  TUii-rs  invents  a  looiUh  reason  to  account  i'nr  the 
last  hour  ol    lh:ii  (lfl;iy :    *Thnt  h(*  wished   the  action  to  com* 
nipuee  at  QuaU'c-Bras  before  he  engnped  the  Prunsinos,  in  onlcf 
that  Key  also  should  have  time  to  fall  ujxm  the  iattt-r.      At  two 
<rclock  he  sent  a   mcsscriKcr   tii  him   to  nimouuce  that  he  was! 
going  to  attack  the  Fru&sian  army  in  front  of  Sombref;  that  he 
(Npy)  was  destined  to  deCtrut  all   Uiat  he;  found  at  Uuatre-Bras, 
and  utUT wards  to  make  a  fresh  movement  to  rake  tbe  Prussians 
in  reverse.'      Any  apjwrimt  loss  of  time  in  Napoleon's  o{X.-i-atious 
if  cither  found  to  be  nf  no  importance,  or  13  amply  excused,  by 
our  author  :  but  similar  delay  on  the  j»rt  of  his  subordinates 
becomes  highly    blanieable,   and    forms  j«»rt  of  the  meaiiit  coi- 
phiycd  by  cruel  Fato  to  deprj\e  him  of  ultimate  suceesa.      WOj 
do    nut  ourtH-tvvs  intend,  in  saying  this,  to  impute  any  foull  to 
N'apoleon.      VWs  troops  bad  lieen  marcbinf^  and  liffhtinff  all  the 
previous  day  from  3  A.M.      Twenty-five  tlmusand   uf  them  hud 
Btill.   as  M.   Thiers    tells    us,    tn    rross    tlir    Sainbrt%    and  pass 
throu;;h  tite  narrow  str<;et8  of  Charlu'oi.     Thcv  sotelv  needed 
Concentration,  n-Rt,  and  refreshment;  .-md   they  bad  ample  work 
before  tbcm,   under   any  cirrumstances,   independently   of   that 
day'*   Imttle.       Unforcftren  difficulties  and    delays    occur    in   all 
military  operations.      No  si>ldier!t  can  light  and   march  without 
fofHt  and  reposf* ;  ami  that  OcnernI  is  the  Ijest  who  is  able,  by  per- 
sonal activity  and  carefid  foretliought,  most  ftTtDCtitully  to  provide 
j^i;ainiit,  or  to  counteract  tlie  elTects  of,  such  continf^encics,  at  the 
'^lamc  time  that  be  obtains  the  frreatAst  amount  of  useful  results, 
with  the  lensi  <xp(«ure  to  hardship  and  fatipiic,  from  his  trcjops. 
Hut   if  tlicr  Trench  Generals  delayed  a  liulc,  tlir  Allied  com- 
manders   dclavetl    more,    in    M.    Thiers*    estimaliim.       Ulucluu- 
onlv  issued   his  oitlers  on  the  evening  of  tlic  14th  to  assemble 
his  tiii«>jw  ;  and  '  as  for  the  Kn^^ltsh,  wbetlier  iVom  the  efiert  of 
their cliaracter,  or  of  the  distances  that  they  had  to  traverse,  their 
aclivitv  was  1cm.*     The  iJukc  of  VVellijiptou  'deceived  himself 
for  fear  of  beinj;  deceivwl  by  Napoleon  :  he  ought  to  have  formed 
his  flivisions  in   n>adine8s  to  march  as  sixin  as  the  direction  was 
fixetl ;    Iwt,   commandant    of  soldiers  wliu    pardon  more  easily 
bein^  k^llnl  tliitii  being  fat!gni>d,  be  bad  not  prescril>ed  anything 
until   the  15tb.'      ICven  then,    after  receivin^f  intelligence  from 
/icten,  and  issuinf;  certain  orders,  he* did   not  tlie  less  go  to 
assist  at  tlie  fete  whicb  the  Duchess  of  Richcmonl  (xiV) — or  of 
Soinenct,  according    to  M.  Victor   Hugo — gave    at    Brussels.' 

2  E  3  BMt. 


But  'while  the  Enffluh  General   gave  tardy  instructions, 
lirutcnnnt«,  enlightened,  no  doubt^  by  the  dongi^r,  adnptwl  liettiu- 
and  inorr  prompt  dis|Mi.sitiun9  tlinn  his  own.*     In  fact,  thtf  Eng^ 
Ijsh  wrrt!  in  tliiH  n-sptM-t  tlic  rrvrrsp,  Hri"i»rding  to  M.  'I'UitTs,  uf 
tlie  Fmitih :  infirriur  sulHinlinnti-s,  in  the  une  ca*<?,  acting  nndt 
a  |ierfei.l  thief;  and  aji  iiiferiur  tomniiiiider,  in  the  other,  l>cini 
provided  witli  more  L-fficient  Generals.     We  need  hardly  remind 
Kn^lish  rrJidrri)  of  the  rare  with  which  tlip  Duke  uf  WellingLi 
jM^rfoimed  his  military  duties,  and  of  the  rautioti  that  he  exer 
ciscd,  csjiL-fiinll^  in  tlie  fare  uf  the  rncniy.    He  formed,  indt?e<l, 
marked  coiiUast  to  the  KmjK-ior  XajHileon  in  this  respect.     Hi 
lost  five   hours  ou  the  15th,  and  tlutt  was  all,  in  cx>nse<|Urnrc 
informatiun  not  having  been  conveyed  to  him  from  the  Prussia 
outpiMt^  OS  s(M>n  as  it  might  have  been.      I3ut  ht*  i-aimot  be 
prouchc<l  with  that  delay;  and  though  enrlier  iufarmatiun  migl 
have  enabli-d  Ulni  to  overwhehri  Xev  at Quatre-Bras  on  the  16ti 
yet  the  want  of  it  did  not  interfere  with  the  ultimate  success 
his  plans.      He  was  consulted  in  regard  to  the  ball  at  the  Durht 
of  Richmond's;  and  he  <lclibcratcly  determined,"  after  he  had 
received  notice  of  the  I'rcnch  advance,  and  liad  acte<l  upon  it. 
that  it  should   be  allowed  to  pnicecd.      He  attended  it  himsrl 
witli  a  view  to  calming  tJic  public  mind  in  IlmsseU,  which  m 
in  a  critical  con^lition.      He  direeteil  thostr  of  his  General  offit 
who  were  in  Brussels  Xo  atteml  it  also,  and  to  leave  it  singly 
quietly;  and  he   himself  retired  at  11    p.m.,   alter  receiving 
des|>atch  from  the  Prince  of  Orange.     Twelve  hours  afterwardi 
ho  was  at  Quatre-Bnis,  33  miles  from  Brussels,  giving  his  owi 
orders ;  and  he  was  the  first  to  find  out  the  threatened  attack  oi 
the  French  in  tliat  diroctino,  whon  it  was  about  to  be  madtrj 
There  is  not  the  least  foundation  for  the  statement  that  has  foui 
too   much    favour    with     some    Englishmen,   as    well    as    witfal 
foreigiKTs,  that  he  was  surprised  at  this  ball  by  the  intelligi-nc 
of  the  French   advancv.      M.  Thiers   is  less   incorrect,  wc  mt 
admit,  upon  this  point  than  some  otlier  writers. 

Napoleon  displiiyul  also  great  personal  activity  during 
short  campaign.  If  ho  was  on  horseback  for  eighteen  hours  a 
day,  with  only  two  or  three  hours  of  repose  at  night,  it  is  impofr. 
sible  to  believe  that  he  was  in  ill-bfaltli,  as  lias  been  asserted 
M.  Tliiers  brings  forward  c«minwlicIory  tcstimcmy  on  this  sub 
ject.  Prince  Jt^rumi*,  and  a  SlafT-^urgi-on  of  the  French  artnyt] 
stated  to  Mm  persuuaily  that  Napoleon  was  then  suffering  firoi 

*  'The  vell-dispoead  must  lie  iniiqullliwd.    Lei  us,  ilipn*(br«,  go  i 
U)  tilt-  lall  of  the  Ducben  or  Richmond ;  htttr  which.  aUmi  &  o'clock,  ire  on  riils| 
off  to  Uic  troupe  ftt  Qyitnr&nui.'    (ienrnil  Voa  MuSliD^>'s  uccaant  uf  whal  ibv 
Diike  of  WvUingtoii  said  to  him.     tJcc  ■  guorterlj  Heuew,'  voL  xeiL  p.  539. 


i 


atid  VifiOT  ffuffo. 


410 


vesitie,'  while  M.  Marcliand,  wlio  wfis  iitlnchw3  to  the  Em- 
iieror's  ]>ri's<fn,  nnd  w)iu  wns  of  iiriiluubtiHl  vrmcitv,  declared 
lo  him  the  contran*.  M.  Victor  Hnpo  suggests  lliat  his  <rv-i(i(;nt 
physicnl  decline  may  have  Ijccn  cuinplicatcU  with  other  failings, 
and  even  have  induced  him  to  become  frenzied,  in  onler  to  hide 
his  want  of  power,  but  ends  by  expressing  his  own  belief  that 
ftuch  was  not  the  case. 

We  will  not  dwell  on  M.  Thiers'  inaccuracies  in  repanl  to 
the  battles  of  Lis:ny  and  (juatrc-Bras,  or  uj>on  the  contentions 
antl  misunderstandings  that  occurrwl  in  consequence  nf  Xapo- 
lenn's  having  first  deslretl  Nev  to  attack  tne  English,  and 
afterwanls,  when  he  found  that  he  had  more  on  his  hands  than 
he  expected,  to  a^ist  him  with  the  l^ssians  at  the  same  time. 
But  as  our  authors  are  so  ready  to  accuse  cruel  Fate  of  all  that 
liap|)ened  to  the  disadvantage  of  Napoleon  and  the  French,  we 
will  observe  that  it  was  merely  the  accident  of  a  letter  remaining 
at  Hnnnut  instead  nf  l»eing  forwnnled  to  Lii>gc,  that  prevented 
Billow  from  joining  Bliiclner  at  Ligny  ;  and  that  if  he  had  been 
able  to  do  so,  Napoleon  would  have  found  it  still  more  difficult 
tn  defent  the  Prussians  on  tltc  Itith  at  that  place.  It  was  by 
wav  of  Hannut,  ami  not  of  Namur,  n«  M.  'I'hiers  infers,  that 
Billow  mnrcheil  towards  the  sc-i-ne  of  action. 

Towards  the  rinse  of  lilt;  Iiattle  of  (juatr«'-Jiras,Ney,  with  scarcely 
sixteen  thoiisaiifl  men  t^i  oppise  to  forty  thousand,  *  re*became  what 
he  had  always  Ut-n — a  Hon — -and  threw  the  division  of  Jerome 
upon  the  enemy's  battalions  as  they  emerged  frum  tlic  wood.'  But 
*  ho  decided  to  pass  from  the  offensive  to  tlie  defensive  ' — (when  he 
was  obliged  to  do  so  as  Wellington  ndvanre<l  /f/xline) — and  he  was 
tlien  far  from  being  in  a  cnmlition  cither  to  march  upon  Brussels 
or  Ut  assist  the  I'^mpi-mr  at  Ligny.  In  fad,  his  own  sense  of  bis 
situation  induced  hira  to  give  vent,  *  with  noble  and  tearing 
grief,'  lo  the  greedy  and  comical  expression,  '  Cet  boulets^  je  lex 
voufirah  t<nts  avoir  dans  le  rent  re  T  In  these  two  battles  forty 
thfiu^nnd  men  were  *sBt'rificp<l  ai»ew,'  imt  to  (he  ambition  of 
Napoleon,  but  to  the  'Jormulnbks  jmasums  dii  tiich!'  while 
D'Krlon  *  was  wandering  between  the  two  fiehls  with  unparalleled 
ardour,'  not  by  the  mismanagement  of  Napoleon,  but  *  hy  the 
fatality  which  hovere<l  at  tliis  jieriml  over  our  {the  French) 
aflairs.'  One  imrident  in  the  battle  of  Qnatre-Bras  is  worthy  of 
esprrial  notice.  We  cannot  expect  to  6nd  its  parallel  every 
duv  in  u  sober  historv,  or  anywhere  else,  perhaps,  but  in  tho 
works  i>f  Biiron  Munchausen.  When  the  British  infantry  took 
refugi?  in  the  houses  of  Quatre-Bras,  and  '  rnineil  upon  the 
French  a  shower  of  balls,'  tho  latter  were  compelled  to  Iwat  a 
retreat : — 

'BinpriaQd 


420 


The  Waterloo  of  Thiers 


*  Bnrpria^  at  first  by  tbo  ftro,  and  fimUng  thomsolvee  iinswipr*" rtod, 
thoy  rotirod,  at  first  slowly,  but  soon  aftcirwnrrtawiUi  the  i  iijo 

of  panic.     The  Comte  de  Volmy  wished  in  raiu  to  rotaiu  ; :  ^  ilu 

slope  of  the  plutcuti,  which  Ibi^y  hud  pruvioUKly  aeccndt^d  victnriously. 
The  declivity  and  tbo  bnrry  of  rctTciU  precipitwlrfl  their  w»ni«. 
TboirGCDcral  ditouotuitod,  luid.  without  hiA  hat,  hiuluo  other  rc«oaico, 
to  aviiid  h(3iug  left  bcJuud,  thou  tii  attach  hiuiHilf  to  the  bridles  of 
txvQ  cuirassiers ;  and  ho  thtu  escaped,  nwpcndod  to  two  lionoB  at  a 
gallop.' 

Tins  story  is  nlmost  as  tikoly  as  another  which  our  historUo 
relates  of  Colonel  Sourd,  who,  after  his  arm  hnd  been  hacked  to 
nieces  on  the  march  towards  Waterloo  in  nn  encnnnicr  with  the 
British  cavalry,  ami  half-scpnrated  from  his  body,  ohfetinntely 
mnitincd  on  horseback.  He  onlv  djstnuunted  to  »Dbinit  tu  an 
ninpiitation,  and  then,  returning  to  his  saddle,  he  commandej  hi* 
regiment  till  it  returned,  under  the  walls  of  Paris.  An  equally 
nrubable  anecdote  is  related  by  M.  Victor  lingo  of  six  voltutfrurt. 
These  men,  '  having  pcnclmtcd  tntn  the  garden '  of  llriug^Mimont 
during  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and  'being  caught  there  like  bears  ui 
n  ilitcb,*  fought  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  without  any  other  bheltrr 
tlinii  g(Miseberrv- bushes,  ag:iinst  two  companies  of  Hanoverians. 

\otwitli5tanding  tlie  alwve  resalla — of  a  hinlly-won  victory  at 
Ligny  and  a  defeat  at  Quatre-Bras — M.  Thiers  proceeds  witli 
satisfaction  to  observe: — 'Such  was  the  bloo<ly  day  of  the  16th 
June,  and,  in  reality*  onr  pluii  of  campaign,  so  pn>foundty  ccio-| 
crived,  had    succeeded.'      We    cantiof  admit    tlie   truth   of   this] 
assiTtioii,  but  we  will   allow  him   tu  exjilaiu   liis   renams   for  it.' 
First,  he  finds  tliat   Napoloon  had  oeeupieil  the  graud  nind  fiom 
Namnr  to  Brussels,  though  not  at  two  points,  yet  at  Snmbref — 
(which  was   not  the  fact,  because  the  Prussiaiu  occupied   it  all 
night  after  the  battle) — and  tliat  was  suihcient  fw  the  oljject  br 
had  III  view.    The  Knglish  would,  therefore,  be  romiwllc*!,  eithw] 
to  ftght  nitJiout  tlie  Prussians  or  tu  make  u  long  detour  to  jiUD 
them.    Seroudiv,  that  that  one  of  tlie  two  armies  which  Ntt^Mileoa 

firopowd  first  to  encounter  had   been  hciien,  and   badly  lieateo. 
t  would  have  been  better  if  it  had  been  routed,  because  then  thi»] 
face  of  events  would  have  l»een  changed,  and  the  English  nrmyl 
might   hare  Iteen   obliged  lo  give  battle  the  next   day,  ami    liava| 
hceu  destnrynl  without  succtmr.    But  still  Napoleon  wa^  b«rtwe«>aj 
the  .Allies — (which  is  also  untrue,  as  he  was  in  front  of  both  of 
the  allied  armies)— preparwl  to  beat  them  one  after  the  other,  and 
he  had  nlrpiidy  lieaten  that  one  of  them  which  it  was  nccei 
fir*t  to  defeat.*    Tlierefore  the  essential  part  of  the  plan  liad  beei 
realixed.     llie  above  is  a  translation  of  what  wc  find  at  p.  145; 
at  p.  14S,  singularly  enough,  something  more  like  the  tml 

wit 


wirh  rciarard   in  ihis  *«acceM'  props  out  in  ft  porcnthrgig,     M. 
Thirrs  t)i(>ri>  asvs,  in  spt-akini^  of  Napuleon's  jHigitiun,  tliat  '  \\e 
fotind   hiuisnlf  lietwtteii  twii  cni.'miw*,* — (it  uuglit  to   br   in    fnmt 
(ti  two  enemies) — 'of  wliirh  each  almost  rquallcd   the  FrrnrJi 
army/     Na[vtleon  cntninitted  a   JHtal  mistake,  umltmhtedly.  ia' 
throwing  hiinscit'    In^turen  tn-o  stich  titl^'fmriei,  as  he  suctef^ded 
ni    fining,   at    last,    on    the    field   iiI'  VV'nterlon,      Wellin^um  and 
Bluchnr  itBTC  fully  wnrrantcil  in  runsiiWin^  ihemsdves  ti>  he  sa(#l 
from  siicli  an  attuek  ;  an<3   it   \\ov*\  l>e  no  matter  for  stirprisr  that, 
Wellinfftim    refiwcd    to   move   hi«   troops   until   he  luul  retvived  I 
positive  iuforinution  that  it  waa  nctuatly  impending.    Na]if>leoirt< 
Marsliaiit,  lloiu  tliough  they  were,   were  naturally  disconc-erted 
notv  and   then   in   a   situation   '  which    NapoU-»n    had    himself 
crentcd    in  endeavouring   to  reeommenc-r,  in  spttr*  of  Europe,  in 
•pite  lit  Fnuicxr,  in  spitn  of  uuiviirsa!  reason,  a  rui^  which  tiad 
bcromo  impfMsililc' 

N.-L|Kile(m  now  placed  35,000  men — (it  ought,  we  heliero,  to^ 
hr  2SMHX>) — at  iho  disposal  of  Grouchy,  and  instructed  him  'to* 
fi>llow  up  tlie  Prussians,  to  complete  their  defeat,  and  to  resist 
thrm  if  they  showed  a  disp«»sition  to  return  upon  the  Freneh* 
—to  op|>u8e,  in  fart,  an  army  "f^  ^,000  men,  which,  though 
defratctl,  had  liren  hy  no  means  routed,  with  one  of  a  third  of 
thai  numliBi-.  Napoleon  ne>;lerted  to  watch  ihr*  Prussians  after 
tlie  hattle  In  the  first  instance,  as  he  ought  to  have  dinir,  to 
ascertain  the  direction  of  their  march,  though  M.  Thiers  <loe« 
not  mention  that  this  wn»  the  case.  He  thought  of  nothing  hut 
driving'  tho  British  into  the  sea,  with  the  75,000  men  that 
remaineil  to  him.  He  could  not  gnt  away  as  quickly  as  lir 
desired,  I«*eau3e  his  soldiers, '  coucfl^x  tinns  le  6artff,'  as  M.  Thiers 
olMerros,  'slupt  still  proftmndly  iti  the  midst  of  30,000  corpses, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  refuse  them  a  few  hours  to  rlenn  their 
arms,  to  make  their  soup,  and,  in  fine,  to  breathe.'  J-Sut  the 
English  awl  Prussians,  he  adds,  ha^l  lost  30,0<X>  or  40,OfK.I  men 
J(ille<l,  wounded,  or  missing,  and  *thus  far  the  results  uf  Lha , 
i-ampaig^n  wero  entirely  to  our  (tlte  I'Vench)  advanta^.  It  ouljr 
waiitwl  onrt  happy  day  to  render  it  decisive.' 

In  tlie  (!Ourse  of  the  m.uch  towai-da  Brussels,  Napoleon 
ohserred,  from  the  way  in  which  the  com  had  been  tw-ntcn 
down  between  Marlwis  and  Onatrr-Bras,  that  numemus  ("oriw  of 
Prussians  mii»t  have  taken  the  rouU?  to  Wavre,  by  way  ol  Tilly, 
alunj;  die  Dyle ;  and  be  tlien  forwnnled  more  |Hisitive  instrtic- 
lions  to  Grouchy,  to  the  efTeet  that  he  shouhl  proceed  to  Gem* 
blonx,  on  th<!  roiul  to  Wavre;  should  ascertiin  the  direction  the 
Prusj^ians  had  taken;  should  remain  on  their  tmcfrs;  slu^uld  hold 
his  divisions  well  in  hand;  and  should  keep  up  his  eummuni- 

rotions 


422 


The  PVaifrloo  of  Thiert 


cntiiins  with  liootl-qiiiu'ters.     In  pointings  out  latrr  tliat  the  Dvic 
si-panitcil  Wellington    li-om   Bliicner  as    well  i\B   Napolwin  fioin 
(injunhv,  and  th.it  Cirouchy  mig^hl  havn  tukcn  n(lvaiit.-ie(*  »f  this 
circum glance,  M.  Thiers  is  in  pitof.    The  French  armies  onlv  wrrr 
separated  In  thai  river,  as  the  jrrcater  |>art(il'  Hlurher's  force  was  un 
till-  wPBt  nf  it  on  tlie  evening  of  the  1  Tlh.      After  the  l-'rench  had 
passed  Quatre-Bras,   the  rain   fell    in  torrents,  and  rendered  the 
fMtuntrv  iiuprarticablc  for  men  and  horses,  oblifriu^  them  Ut  keep 
to  the  roads,  and  causing  them  much  delay  and  disorder.    *  Titer 
would  have  been  consoled   if  only  they  could  have  made  sure  nt 
the  cn<l  of  this  pfiinftil  march  of  joinintr  the  Engliih,  and  of  termi- 
nating U|w>n  a  fair  field  the   hing^  hostilities  of  the  two  nations. 
Bui  they    knew    not  whether  they   would    not  disapixiir  in  tlir 
depths  of  the  Forest  of  Soignies,  and  rejoin  tlic  Prussians  behind 
its  thick  curtain.'     They  were  undeceived  in  this  respect  in  the 
course  of  tlic  evening,  on  arriving;  at  the  foot  of  the  position  of 
Mont  Soint-Jean,   hcluml   which  they  found   the  English  csta- 
biishe<1,  'preserved    l)V  the  elevation  of  the  soil  from  part  of  tht»i 
sufferings  which  the   I'Vench   had  emlurod,  and  provided  at  hi^ 
prices   with    abundant   resources.'     But    Najwleon    appreciated 
neither  the  firmness  of  his  enemy  nor  the  im|>ort3nce,  strategical] 
and   tactical,  of  the  position   liefore  him.     He  stilt  *patnJiilly 
doubted,    fearing   lest  his    enemies    should    escape   through    lh^^ 
Forest  of  Soignies  during  the  night,  urid,  rejoining  the  Pnusian* 
behind  Brussels,  should   sptil    his  plans,  and  opjiose  a  total  nf 
200,000  men  to  his  own  army  of  half  their  uumber,*     After 
studying  their  position,  he  asked  of  Providence  only  to  give  him 
the  opprjrtonity  of  a  battle,   *  se  charpeant  comma  atiirefou  den 
Jtiin  unc  victoire!* 

'If  it  had  not  rained,*  says  M.  Victor  Hugo,  '  on  the  ni^t  of 
the  17th  to  the  IHth  of  June,  181.%  the  future  of  Europe  would 
have  been  changed.  A  few  drops  of  water  more  or  less  caused 
the  fall  of  Napoleon.  In  order  that  Waterloo  should  have  had 
the  termination  of  Austerlitz,  Pruvidonce  should  have  required 
but  little  rain;  and  a  cloud,  out  uf  season,  (Tossing  the  bcavcn«, 
sufltced  fur  the  t'crouleinenl  (tun  motirie.^  VV'e  may  add,  wit 
equal  reaiwin  and  more  truth,  tliat  if  NapoIe<m's  father  had  notl 
liappencd  to  meet  with  Napoleon's  motlier,  this  '  prautl  bucherwr 
de  /'Europe,'  as  M.  Hugo  calls  him,  would  not  tiimself  have 
the  light ;  or,  in  the  words  ot  the  divine,  '  if  a  goat  had.  uc 
fortuitously  diBturbed  ihn  rest  of  Ahasucrus  2730  years  ago,  anc 
caused  him  tr*  call  for  the  book  of  the  Chronicles,  the  Jc-wl 
would  have  lieeii  destmved  fmm  off  the  face  of  tlie  earth.'  *lf,1 
says  M.  Hugo  in  another  jilacr,  'the  little  herdsman  who  acif 
as  guide  to  Biilovr,  had  oalv  advised  lum  to  debouch  Irom 

foi 


forest  above  Frischei-mont  instead  of  below  Planchenoitf  the  form 
of  tlie  ninetpentli  century  wnuld  perhaps  have  been  (Uffercnt — 
Napoleon  would  hnvt*  gained  the  Imtlle  «if  Waterloo.  If,  one 
hour  later,  HUirlier  had  not  found  Wellington  still  flebout,  the 
l)attl<>  would  hiive  Ixron  lost.*  M.  Hu^o  ilf^scrilM^s  further  on, 
with  his  usunl  rifrour,  tlic  great  difhcultv  w}iich  the  FruMians 
bmnd  in  arriving  at  all.  *Thc  roads  were  impratticnblc;  the 
dtrisicms  were  betnired  ;  the  ^ns  sunk  into  the  ruts  up  tu  the 
naves  of  the  wheels.'  We  know  that  this  was  so — thai  the 
infantry,  nbliptil  to  wade  through  the  forest  rnads,  cTie<l  out, 
'  We  shall  never  ijet  on,'  and  that  Hliirher  replied,  '  We  must  Ret 
on.*  But  M.  Huffo  is  unable  to  perceive,  that  although  the  rain 
wns  disadvantageous  to  Na]K>leon  in  one  way,  by  soakinff  the 
gniund  in  front  of  Wellington's  position,  nml  giving  him  that 
reason  among  others  for  postponing  his  nttack  until  eleven  o'clock, 
it  afiiinlcil  him,  on  tlie  other  hand,  just  the  opportunitv  that  he 
desired,  if  he  could  only  have  profited  bv  it,  of  dpfeating  the 
ICn<;lish  before  the  arrival  of  the  Prussians,  and  was  in  this 
respect  very  much  in  his  favour. 

^I.  Hugo  states  truly  that  there  were  in  the  Knglish  ranks 
*  young  sidtliers  who  were  valiant  before  our  redoubtable  in* 
fantrv  ;'  and  adds  that  they  did  good  service  as  tirntlleurK,  nnd 
showed  '  something'  of  the  fury  and  invention  nf  I*'rench  soldiers. 
*'niis  inoxperienceii  infantry  had  genius,"  be  further  savs,  '  whirh 
displeased  Wellington.'  But  he  certainly  ndmits  more  than  SI, 
'ITiiers  in  saying,  in  another  |>lacc,  '  Four  tie  tels  Francois  it  Jta 
failaii  pat  moim  fjiie  ife  teh  AnffUiin.''  M.  Thiers  asserts  that 
'the  I'Jiglish  weirp  old  soldiers,  proved  by  twenty  years  of  war, 
anil  justly  proutl  uf  their  success  in  S|>ain.'  The  fact  was,  tluit 
not  more  than  sis  or  seven  thouaaml  of  the  best  part  of  Welling- 
t^m's  army,  including  the  Germans,  ha<i  previnusly  been  in  action. 
The  British  Government  hnri  found  grrnt  difliculty  in  providing 
htm  witli  an  etficii'nt  force,  in  ronsrquence  uf  a  considerablo 
number  of  men  and  some  of  their  best  regiments  being  absent 
in  America. 

'  While  all  slept  in  the  camp  of  the  four  Allies,  Napoleon,' 
M.  Thiers  tells  us,  'rose  two  hotirs  after  midnight,  after  a  short 
re|H)5e,  still  in  fear  of  srriiig  tlie  ICuiflish  n?treat  before  him  in 
nnicr  to  join  the  Prussians  iK-hint!  lirusscls.  The  danger  <tf  great 
Inliles  agaiiiKt  him  was  so  well  known  to  Kuropean  Generals, 
and  litis  danger  was  so  evident  for  the  English,  who  had  an  im- 
mense forest  behind  them,  through  which  their  retre;it  ivouhl  be 
very  difiicult,  wliile,  cm  the  contrary,  a  reunion  with  the  I*nis- 
sinns  behind  that  forest  presented  50  sure  a  game,  tliat  he  cituld 
not  und<-n>tand  what  it  was  that  temptetl  tlte  Lnglish  to  await  his 

attack.* 


434 


Tlie  fVaterloo  of  Thiers 


« 


attRck.*      M.   TTiiers  9Uppli<«   his   own   rxplsnotioni,  howrrer, 
which  Xapnlpon  rould  not  havr  heen  pxppctMl  to  iJiKro\tT,     Tlin 
Empprnr  '  rfnwinetl  without  tnklnE^  into  arcount  ihe  Two  violml. 
pnssifins — tlm  hale  of  thr  IVussiati  CJpncral,  nnd  tli<»  <inihition  of 
the  Kn^lish  (iencml.    Thfl  former  was  roatlvto  piirrhniu-  tlio  ndo 
of  I'Vance  with  his  lil'r  :  the  latter  aspired  bimiolf  to  terminsle 
the  quarrel  of  Europe  airaingt  lie,  and  tn  acquire  the  principal 
honour  of  doin^  it'     M.  Thiers  cwuld  hnnllj  write  anylhin?  more 
false  or  more  mischievous  than  t]iis  pam^aph.      The  Duke  nf 
Wellington  luid,  as  both  M.  lliiersand  M.  Hitgoadnit^  rhn!;pn  iht*  ^M 
position  of  VVafprliK)  prtiviously,  as  lliat  on  wliirh  hr>  would  light,  ^^ 
if  neressarff  for  the  protection  of  Hrussels  and  the  defenrn  of  the 
Low  Countries.      Instead  of  desiring  to  run  risk  for  tlie  snkc  flf  ^J 
ambition  and  to  be  in  the  fmni  miik  against  NapolfKm^  he  pn^^| 
«unde<l   HHirhcr,   as   M.    Tliiers  also    admits,   to   remain   on   ihe^^ 
defensive  until   tlie   AuHlrlan<t  wen-   readv  in  advance  with   ibein 
upmi    Paris.      In  the  simple  jHTformance  of  his  dut\  he   6rmlr 
awaited  the  onslaught  of  the  roiphtv  ronqticTor  who  was  so  snr- 
prised  at   his  daring  t"  stand    Iwfore  him,  in  the  position  which 
he   had   cliosen.      He  had  little  fear  of  being  driven   from   that 
position  i  and    if  lie   had  been  obliged   to  retreat,  he  wooldf  no 
doubt^  liave  defemlwl  the  passage  through  the  fon'st  sucreMftillf 
against  as  many  of  his  enemies  as  would  liavc  been  in  a  condition 
to  pursue  him,  in  spite  of  the  dangen  which  MM.  Tliiers  aw 
Hugo,  05  well  OS  other  writers,  have  imagined  from   its  con- 
dgnity.     The  forest  was,  indeed,  well  calculated  for  the   pa 
pose,   inasmuch  as  there   were  four  jhiws  through  it,  and  the 
timb(Ted   intervals  were   Ojien  and    practicable   for  cavalry   and 
infantry.      He   fouglit,  not  against  the  Frenrh— whom    he  dealt 
with  leniently  whenever  they  fell   into  his  power,  at  Paris  and 
elsewhere — but  against  the   ambitious  despot  who  was  endei 
rouring  once  more  to  set  Europe  in  a  blaze,  and  whose  v 
and  extensive  projects  we  hare  already  described  in  M.  Thi 
own  wonts.      One  of  his  Arst  nets,  on  his  advance  from  the  b' 
and  smoke  of  Wat^'Hoo,  was  to  protest  against  the  disraembcf- 
ment  of  Fmnce.      Hut    Napoleon,  who  bad  never  seen  a    Briiis' 
army  in  the  field,  little  knew  what  he  was  about  to  encounter 
Had  he  been  a  wiser  man,  he  would  not  hare  experienced  a 
*^ verUahle  joie  \t\  perceiving  the  brilliant  watrbfires  which  ga' 
evidence  of  the  perserering  presence  of  the  Eaglisli  annr.* 
M.  Thiers  s1ati*s  that  the  Tlritish  and  Allietl  forces  on  the 
amounle^l   lo  7i^,()IH)  strong,  wliereas  tliey  did   not  numlier  m 
than  7(),(KK) ;  and  he  omits  In  notice  the  enormous  prepitndera 
which  Napoleon  |K«»ossed  in  artillery,  of  240  to  ISO  guns.      \ 
Hugo  gives  tho  Allied  cummanders  credit  for  having  ifre|ia: 

thr 


tmd  Victor  Hugo.  4S5 

their  position  with  greater  care  than  was  bestowed  npon  it,  *  by 
trimming  the  hedges,  by  cutting  embrasures  in  the  hawthorns, 
by  placing  branches  over  the  muzzles  of  the  guns,  by  crenelating 
the  shrubs,  and  by  concealing  the  artillery  in  ambuscade  under 
the  bushes.  So  well  was  this  done,  that  Haxo,  who  was  sent  by 
the  Emperor  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy's  batteries,  saw  nothing, 
and  reported  to  Napoleon,  on  his  return,  that  there  was  no 
obstacle  except  the  two  barricades  barring  the  roads  of  Nivelles 
and  Genappe.'  We  learn  also  that  there  was  *an  enormous 
battery  in  the  centre  of  the  position,  masked  by  sandbags,  which 
was  almost  a  redoubt,  but  which  there  had  not  been  time  to 
palisade,  though  it  was  revetted  with  sandbags  and  a  large  slope 
of  earth.'  This  is,  doubtless,  the  well-posted  battery  to  which 
Captain  Sibome  refers,  when  he  says  (at  p.  236,  3rd  edition)  that 
a  strong  reconnaissance  was  made  to  ascertain  whether  a  battery 
near  Best's  infantry  brigade  had  really  been  entrenched,  its 
^pcarance  having  caused  a  supposition  that  such  was  the  case. 
The  truth  is,  that  the  since-celebrated  chateau  of  Hougoumont 
was  the  principal  object  of  attention  before  the  battle  ;  and  not 
a  hatchet  could  be  found  for  work  that  was  most  urgently  required 
at  La  Haye  Sainte,  in  consequence  of  the  mnle  that  carried  the 
entrenching  tools  of  the  men  stationed  there  having  been  lost. 

M.  Hugo's  descriptions  of  Napoleon  and  Wellington  are  very 
amusing : — 

*  To  sketch  the  appearance  of  the  former,  at  daybreak  on  the  18th 
June,  1815,  that  is  almost  too  much.  Before  one  shows  him,  all  the 
world  has  seen  him.  The  calm  profile  under  l^e  little  hat  cpf  tho 
Bchool  of  Brieime,  tho  green  uniform,  the  white  reverse  hiding  the 
Btar,  tho  surtout  concealing  the  epaulettes,  the  angle  of  the  cordon 
rouge  under  the  waistcoat,  the  breeches  of  leather,  the  white  horse, 
with  his  housings  of  purple  velvet  having  at  the  comers  the  N  crowned 
and  eagled,  tho  boots  a  Teeuyere  over  the  silk  stockings,  tho  silver 
spurs,  the  sword  of  Marengo, — all  this  figure  of  the  last  Cieaar  is 
standing  in  tho  imaginations,  applauded  by  some,  severely  regarded 
by  others.' 

The  Duke,  he  describes  as  follows,  in  another  place : — 

'Wellington,  unquiet  hut  impassihle,  was  on  horseback,  and  re- 
mained tho  whole  day  in  the  same  attitude,*  a  little  in  advance  of  tho 
old  mill  of  Mont  Saint-Jean,  which  still  exists,  under  an  elm-troe, 
which  an  enthusiastic  Vandal  of  an  Knglishuian  has  since  purchased 
for  200  francs,  cat  down,  and  carried  away,     Wellington  was  there, 

*  Colonel  Fraser  says,  on  this  subject,  in  one  of  his  interesUng  letters,  dated 
the  20th  Jnne,  1615: — 'Without  his  persons!  exertions,  his  continual  pretence, 
wherever  and  whenever  more  than  moal  exertions  were  required,  the  day  had 
been  lost' 

coldly 


TTtfi  Ifaierioo  of  Tliirrs 


coMIy  homio.     Tho  bnllcls  mined.     Tito  fJde'4e-Miap  Gordoo  f«U, 
at  lii»  ndu.     Lord  Hill,  sliowiag  to  liim  ■  shell  wliicli  Imret,  ati' 
"  My  Lord,  what  ure  your  iustructioDs,  and  what  orders  do  von  lea 
OS,  if  yon  get  ynurwlf  killed  ?  "    "Do  &in!  pomme  moi,"  ropliM  Wcl 
lington.     To  Clinton  ho  said  liwoniciJIy,  "To  rmsBin  hure  until 
U&t  mau."     The  «lay  visibly  went  badly.     Wellington  cried  to  lii 
ancient   conipiinionR    of  Talavura,  Vittoria,  and  fialamapea,  "  Baj9^ 
can  yon  dream  of  numing  avray  ?     Think  on  Old  Bngland  t  "  * 

The  rcjwrta   wliirh   nur  antliors,  am)   jwrtiful.irly   Jl.   Ha, 
afTiinl    us   uf  ronvcrsatinns,   cxpn-ssions,   movements,   and   sc 
tioiu,  are  occasiuiially  viry  ludicrous.     Napoleon,  fatalist,  u 
to  the  stars  *  the  mysterious  words,  "  Nous  smrnner  traavnt** 
He   $a.y9  of  Wellington,    '  if  petit  Anffhi$  a   Itsoin   tTunr  le^an 
Wpllington   rrtmgrodes,    Napoleon   starts,      Tlie   Kmjieror    th' 
a  demi  in  liis   stirrups,     Tlit!    DuKe  ruinaius   firm,  but  his  H 
wliilrii.      At  one  tiror,  wlini    lhn-*--parts  beaten,  he  admires   t 
Frvncb  cuiraasii-rs,  and  says,  '  Splendid  ! '     At  5  r.M.  he  takes  o 
his  watch,  and  is  heard  to  mutter  the  '  mot  sombr^t  "  Blue 
Oil  la  nuit ;' '  and  on  another  occasion  he  feels  himself  ^pnwftrr'i 
Nt-ylias  five  horses  killr<l  "  under  Lim,  and  btirro%vs  a  sixth.     I 
has  flanirs  in  his  eves,  and  fn)lh    in  his   muutli ;  his  epaulette  is 
half  cut  in  two  by  a  'horse-guanl  ;*  ami  he  says,  with  his  tinikwi 
sword  in  his  liniKl,  *  V'enez  voir  comment  meurt  un  MnrMml 
franrc  siir  le  chatup   lic  bataiUe*     A   bag-piper  in  a  l^i^hl 
repmcnt  sits  upon  a  drum,  *  witli  his  pitxrocb  (!)  under  his  an 
playiri^  airs  of  the  mountains — ("  De'il  tnk'  tlic  Wars,"  pndmbh 
or  "My  Heart's  in  the  Hi|fhlands  "). — and  lowering-  in  pnifou 
inatlcniinii  his  nirlnnrhnlv  eve,  foil  nf  the  reflrrtiou  from  foresi 
and   lukes,  while  extermination    is  goinj;  on  around   him. 
sabre  of  a   cuirassier  stops   tlie  tune   by  killinfj  the  player,  ami 
striking  down  the  pibrorh  and  the  arm  that  carries  it.'     Imagi 
an  Knjflish  writer  describinp  a  Frenchman  as  g»itij^  into  aetii 
with  *  Lu  Marseillaise''  Uirnst,  in  a  fit  of  ahsence  of  mind,  i 
the  jwckct  of  his  red   bn>eche».  while  he  thinks  only  of  M 
martrc  or  the  Huisde  Doulfiipu' !    'lliF-se  S^-dtehmen  die  in  thin 
ing  of  Ben  Lothian  (!),   'a*  tlie  (Jreeks  did   in    remembcri 
Argo*.'     Neither  M.  'fhiers  nor  M.  Huffo  can   know  anythi 
more  of  the  feelingn  <if  Wellington,  Xapoleon,  and  others,  whi 
they   undertake   to    describe,    than   the   dn^    which    *  shows 
teetli,'  and    now   *  replaces  the   F.n-rlish  at  Hi>u;!j:uumout,'  or  th^ 
brave   little  binl,  of  whom  the  latter  spi'aks  more  cautiously,  u 

*  M.  Lunanine.  in  bis '  llUiaire  de  TaResiauratioo,'  nonnts  the  Duke  of  WcDli 

Ifftn  upon  an  ei^tb  "kvnv,  ftfter  ils  ivvea  prHrcnson  Ihitl'  Uvo  li.in(Hl  iiihIct  liil 

pKnmitulfnl  of 'Co))cnIta{t<-i>>'  wIiom-  Iu^-Uwpqi  muvt to  bUm  >ficr  «  U^ad  at  tti| 

ihsD  tfac  cDcny's  shut  aud  kIicII  bad  kivproaclied  ta  eithrr  of  tUem  duriuj;  liit  i 

havil 


and  Vidor  Hugo. 


iST 


having  been  * probablemfnt  amourcux^  when  he  heard  It  sing, 
cunc-ealetl  in  a  lar^e  tree  in  the  neighbourhood. 

But  we  must  return  to  M.  Thiers  and  the  fiiJil  of  Waterloo : — 

'  Eleven  o'chwk  rtnick.  Nftpolcon  was  alroculy  ii]»  {ufUjr  lui  hour's 
sloep),  witbont  rctjuiriiig  hia  brother  to  uwako  him.  Thu  two  armies 
avmitcil  In  ettUnoss  the  signal  of  cntuWt.  Na|>olf!uu  gavo  it  sA  lialf- 
past  olcTBU.*  He  felt  geuHaUons  of  pride  and  oonfidonco,  which  inaiii- 
fectod  theanselvcs  on  his  face  and  in  his  words.  His  army  spread  out 
lilto  a  vast  fiuj,  spitrkling  with  tht:  ri-'lloctiou  of  llio  sun  &om  their 
hajoneta,  thoir  sabres,  and  thoir  ciiinuwes,     Thoir  de|il(iymitiit  pro- 

duued  tui  fffd  dei  plus  faiittiManli The  Euf;litih,  on  thu  onoj 

hand,  wc-ro  quiet, — confident  m  tlwir  courage,  iu  their  poaition,  in  tlieit  j 
CGneml,  in  thulr  hustenod  union  with  the  PrnssianH— [which  tluiy  wora] 
not  told  to  expect].  The  French  (that  i«  to  say,  the  soldiers  and  in- 
furior  ofGcora),  eoiuuat^id  to  tbo  highest  point,  thought  neither  of  tbo 
PnuwiauH  nor  of  Gruurliy — ^[thniigh  Nupoluon  found  it  necessoiy  lo 
infurm  thcin,  ial^-ty.  that  Urouvhy  was  coming  to  thoir  oBKtstance  |, — 
hut  of  tho  Knglifih  whom  they  luul  before  them,  denimidod  otdy  tu 
attark  them,  oud  expected  victory  for  theniHelvuH  luid  thu  fruitfid 
geniutt  who  conunanded  them,  and  who  always  knew  how  to  find| 
appropriuto  irresiitUhlo  cuiuhiuiitioue.' 

The  attack  made  in  the  first  instance — after  halP-an-hour  of 
ATtillory  fire — upon  Hougoumont,  is  represented  by  our  IVem-li 
hist(>rian  lo  liavc  been  little  more  than  a  feint,  intendcci  to  draw 
off  the  attention  of  the  British  tomin.indfr,  to  induce  liiin  to 
strcugthen  that  pnrt,  and  weaknii  tlir  r«'nminder  of  his  line, 
previous  to  the  pnnd  attack  on  his  centre  and  right  which  was 
to  follow.  We  Itiunv,  lidwitver,  tliat  tliis  latter  was  not  undertaken 
till  aUjiit  hfilf-piist  niic  u'ch«'k,  or  two  huurs  and  a-half  after  the 
Commencement  of  the  battle;  and  in  any  case  the  iornier,  if  n 
feint,  w;is  sustained  with  great  ardour  and  with  large  forces. 

The  attack  on  the  right  and  centre  was,  no  doubt,  that  by 
which  Napoleon  intendeil  ti>  win  the  day ;  and  the  object  of  it 
was  obviously  to  drive  tlie  Knglish  army  hack  hcj-ond  the  prin- 
cipal road  which  lomlucted  through  the  Forest  of  Soignics  *<» 
Brassols,  and  to  iepanite  them  from  the  Prussians,  m.  Thiers 
says  of  it : — 'This  plan,  in  which  shone  forth  for  the  last  time 
all  tlie  promptitude  and  certainty  of  the  roiiff-tfwil  of  Napoleon, 
waa  incontest.-ibly  the?  best  and  most  eflicacinus,  euiisidering  the 
rniture  n(  the  position  and  the;  divided  state  of  the  enemy's  forces.* 
It  w;is  that,  however,  which  was  also  the  most  advantageous  for 
the  Hritisli  commaiider,  and  which  was  the  most  likely  to  \x  fatnl . 


*  CottfiK-l  SU'Kitiiti'fi  [iir  iIiL-  Gunnb  «tiido«iil  nt  llou^uinoDt'  tookctl  nl  b» 
waUih  wUvu  tbc  fi»t  gun  waa  &ni,  ukI  obMrrvil  Uivt  it  wm  Uicorly  half  in  hoar 
curlier. 

to 


428 


The  fVaterloo  of  Thiers 


to  tlin  French.      Napolpuii  was  nworn  uf  tbe  apj>n»U!li  of  Dulow'l 
corps  of  Hrtissinns  liefiire  that  attack  was  matlc.     He  batl 
their  ailvaiirfTil  ^uard  (which  was  visihlo  at  l(t  Aj(.)on  tlic  fltstantj 
bci^htd,  in  tbc  tlirectioii  of  C}>ap€llc-Saint-Lam)M>ri ;  and  hf  ludj 
ieamt   from    the    Pruasiiui    offu'er   of   hussars  utiom    bi»    light] 
cavalry  ciipturcd,  that  thev   wen*   apnroarhing.      If  lu*   hiid 
(•etihnl  in  forcing  back  the  RnglUli  nifht,  h>'  wouUl  have  luid  tluij 
Pnussiaris  on  his  renr,  in&tcnd  uf  on  liis  Hank  ;  and  cuuLd  not  only  i 
not  have  safely  fi>IInwed  up  the  ailvantagr,  but  would  have  been] 
himself  in  a  still  worse  position  for  rcsistinf;  the  Ihnssians,  and 
hove  been  placed  between  two   fires.     He  would  hardly  haw 
c(»ntrinj»lat<'d  such   an    attack    (or,    perhaps,   have    foiip'ht    i\ 
batUc)  if  he  had  knt  wn  that  niiicher,  with  tlie  rrmniniler  of  liii 
anny  (except  Tluclmann's  coriis),  were  following  Hitlow^  and  thn 
Grouciiy   waa  at  Wavrc,     M.   Thiftnt   loses  no  opportunity 
sneciijif^  at  VV'ellixijBfton,'  and  attcmptiuK'  to  ridicule  hlrn,  fur  pi 
viding  aj^ainst  an  attack  on  his  own  ritrht,  because  it  so  ba|>pcaod1 
that  Napoleon  did  not  attempt  such  nu  attack  ;  but  wc  can  OQW 
see  that  Xapoleon  would  have  had  a  Ijetter  chance  of  aucceic  U 
be  had  attcuipti*d  to  inarrli  to  HruRsels  by  wav  of  Hal  iosteai 
of  Waterloo,  and  thus  to  turn  the  portion  of  Nlont  Saint-Ji 
Hi»  own  right  flaulc  would  not,  in  that  case,  have  been  expose 
to  the  Pruuiaus.     It  would  even  have  bc-co  a  military  fault  ir 
the  port  of  VVollJngton,  whose  basis  of  operations  was  Antncrp^l 
Ostend,   and  the  sea,  if  he  had  neglected  to  protect  lus  rigutj 
flank  from  such  an  attack  ;  and  the  great  iniportaucc  of  Ihc 
vision  which  he  tli'.is  made  at  considerable  sacrifice  for  the  aafe 
of  his  army  has  not  since  been  properly  appreciatod^ 

M.  ilujfo's  descriptions  of  the  appearance    uf  his   CYmntry-^ 
men,  when  ihcy  were  prcjwred  for  the  above  Bttitck,  ore  cjth 
lateii  to  gratify  them  in  the  highest  degree: — 

'  They  were  3'>o0.     Thoy  covorod  a  front  of  a  ()iurtor  of  a  Ic 
Thuy  wtiru  gigniitiu  men,  uptm  cultiMtud  horsed.     Tlicy  wcfu  Iwou^'i 
six  fr^iwdruDs,  and  thoy  had  behind  them  for  their  support  tlu>  divi- 
aioo  of    Ijefubn-o   Dcennuettes,  the  grmiarmea  fV^tc,   the   Chossui 
of  the  Giini'd,  aud  the  Ltuiceri}  of  Uic  (.fiiaith  ....  The  aido-du- 
Buniard  cimyeycd  to  them  the  order  of  the  Kmpomr.     Noy  drew 
sword,  and  ptncjid  himiielf  at  their  head.     11  semldait  qvr  eettf  tnt 
HaU  drrvnw  iH"n»ire  et  n\tit  qn'tmr  tiititr.      Cfiaqtte  t:fcafir<>n  tiwtuiait  ni  t 
goiiJtaH  commc  km  ^inneott  du  l>oly}tC.  .   .   .   uwt  tot^fur  file  dv  hrax 
Jtramlmfani  leu  tabrre^  ajqiar6t  an-dtmiMH  dii  la  4TiA«,  et  Ir^  ragque*,  el 

*  M.  Thiers  hm  in  ftmnor  |wru  oT  hie  vork  altribated  tbc  Dakir  of  W«Ui 
ton**  brilUuil  career  to  gf>od  fortune.  i>r  tu  lack,  and  rcrcrrvd  to  hu  ■nswi 
mitKi.  lit  thu  Muue  linie  tluil  Iiv  k-is  i-xuiiMit  Kmic)i  dbautUTN  na  itn-  homtv  of* 
UL;.*     He  it  lu  cbary  of  sivipfc  credit  to  Uip  Diikv  as  tbt;  [''n-ticli  punier*  i 
iDMrtlag  an  EDgliah  eolaier  ia  a  creditable  ailitude  in  thvir  [>i«tans. 

fromi 


and  Victor  Huffo. 


429 


_     rrin 

lb 

mm 


I 


I 


ina^€lt/'n,  et  Ub  ftmdtudt,  w  iruur  uUU  tktM  k  mmtlAAm  tjrurm^  cnattl 
"  Yhin  nCmpfreur  I "  Tavl*f  rHi«  cavalarig  dHuMehu  mir  le  jttaleau,  at  c$ 
flit  vfuwiK  rctUr&3  d'ua  IrenAUmeai  do  temj 

*  Tlicn  let  the  tniBipets  BOtmd 
Tbo  tuckvt-Mtiiunuco  and  tlio  dmIo  t^i  uiotuit : 
For  ovx  npiiruuclt  shall  su  tnucb  tliu^i  tliu  tuJd, 
Tbiit  £]jgliuu]  bIioU  coach  dowu  in  feu-,  nnd  3rield.' 

The  CouaiabL)  0/  Fratu-e :  {Jung  Unuy  V.) 

Ney  launches  Qtfiot's  Brigatle  ngninet  La  Have  Saiiite,  and 
D'Erlon  (It'scends  witlt  Ills  ftmr  diviKioits  (itbtml  half-past  irne 
o'clock)  into  the  >'alley  which  N-paruUts  tliein  from  the 
English,  and  miirchcs  up  the  sIop«  of  the  |  latcau  opp^witc  'wltii 
mnorkahli^  firmness.'  A  terrible  fire  of  musketry  frum  tlic 
Ohain  ruad,  '  in  which  the  95th  lay  in  ombuscade,'  greets  thein  ; 
they  (-ntss  thn  hi;d^f>,  and  preripitat<*  thi'inu-Ives  uppn  the 
I  am!  upon  Rylandt's  Hri;jTid<'.  Tliev  /«(*«^  some,  and  vtil- 
htUcHt  *  utbfrs.  and  nmvrrscni  more,  before  tht-'V  takt  up  a  {XMiliuu 
on  the  plateau.  'The  victory  has  already  declared  for  them,' 
when,  unfortunately,  nt  a  si^a!  from  General  Pictnn,  Pack'i 
Sc;otchmen,  wlin  liad  lieon  concealed  in  the  corn,  rise  up  *«  Cim- 
fironufrt'  and  fin>  pmnt-lilaiik  intn  their  two  first  roluinns. 
Surpriwd  by  this  fire  at  llm  very  mnment  of  delKiuching  on  the 
plal4-au,  thi*y  «nnn  to  a  stand,  Geiirrn!  Pliton  charj^'S  tlit-ni 
(i  la  baloimelte  witJt  the  batinli(ms  of  Pack  and  Ki^mpl  rallUs — 
(which  was  not  nocessar)) — and  the  two  columns  yield  ^ound. 
They  resist,  however,  and  ailvance  n^in,  mixing^  with  tlie 
Rng'lish  inrniitry,  when  an  unforeseen  storm  breaks  ujwn  tliem. 
TTie  130(>  *  Ecoss^tis  Grts*  f  of  Pon«onby  eharge  them  witli 
all  the  vifTour  of  Knylish  korsfXy  and  j»enetmti?  b«>twcen  the 
fUvisions  of  Allx  and  Duniu'lot  on  one  side,  ami  Donselot  and 
Marcognet  on  the  other.  Att.icking  in  flank  thoae  deep  masses 
of  inlantTy,  which  are  unable  to  deploy  and  form  square,  they 
pierce  without  Iwenkinp  or  crossinp;  them,  but  they  produce  in 
them  "line  $orte  (fe  eanfuaiou.^  Giving'  way,  however,  under  thn 
shock  of  the  horses,  and  projK-llc<l  on  the  declivity  of  iht;  ground, 
thi-an  cnliimns  descend  into  the  valley  pell-mell  with  the  drae(»ons. 
The  SrotJ  (iieys  rapture  on  one  side  the  standard  of  the  Ut.''>th, 
and  on  the  other  tlial  of  the  45tli  Kf'imont.     Tbcy  also  nttack 

•  In  the  tyti  of  Fivurli  Vutioflftitt,  Prci>cli  (old)cn  »rr  nlwost  ni\-iiri»Wy  in  one 
of  t1tiv«  oooditioiifr  :  eillier  Ibcj  are  shout  In  rnlbuler  tlivii-  «f>i>ou(«(^  or  tltey 
have  alruud}'  iloui^  no,  >ir  Uic v  1lb\  e  bevn  prvvuuted  ftuia  tloiiig  utbj  '  a  conrar* 
r«aci'  of  uahmrti<of  fnt»liii<-R.^ 

t  Tbodtnu  emlidragoiu  KroMii*  f^  iV<M(M£y,an>fln /•«  EcosMlfl  <nu«. {»««•• 
f«Vb  mamUUtnl  dm  fAnratu  lOi  roulftir  gri*/',  tarn  tac  prlrbmttHl  Uniun  Unipide, 
vlu£h  inelndnl  tbst  wry  dittitigitigliL-d  nigiia«iit.  M.  TbioK,  m  «t;U  lu  other 
Prcncli  untlion,  ii  partial  to  our  goUnnt  North  British  countrjiavD, 

two 


4W 


The  Hat/rrlco  of  TiderM 


two  batteries  which  have  been  brouf^ht  forwuxl  tn  support  the  itk- 
fautrVr  ciispcning*  thir  artUlerymen,  slsughtcriiig  the  hravc  Colonel 
Oiatidun,  upsetting  the  guns  in  the  njwl,  Bod  killing  the  hones. 
Happily,  tlit'j  hare   now   rracbcfl    the  cml   of  their   triumph, 
Nujwie'ta    has    Been   die    tlisunler.      Thruwiiii;    hiiusolf  un 
horse,    he  crosses  the   fii>I(l   of   battle  at  a  giiUop.  Hie^  to 
*  iftffMC   eauilerie '   of  Milliauil,  aitd    launches  apoD   the   Scotcl 
Drnguons  the  brigade  of  Travcrs,  composed  of  the  7th  and  12t 
Cuirassiers.      One   of  these    rcKimciiu  attacks   them  in   irat 
another  lakes  thrm    in  flank,  and  General  Jacquiuot  directs 
4th  l.aiici>rs  u|Miti  their  iip|Hisit£T  flauk.    Siirpriaied  iu  the  di«urd( 
of  their  purxuil,  anil  axsuih-d    in   all  dlrerttoiu,  thcv  axe  cut 
pieces  In  an  iofctnuu     *  Our  cuirassiers,  burning  to  revcn|;;e  ox 
infantry,  pierce  them  with  their  great  sabres,  and  make  a  horrible 
ctunagr  of  them.'     The  4th  Lancers  led  by  Colouel  Uro,  Xrva\ 
them  no  better  with  their  lances.    A  quartermaster  (^Alarichid  de 
Im/u)  of  the  Lancers,  named  Urban,  throwing  himself  into  t\ 
milic,   takes    tJtc    brave    Puustmby,    the   chief   uf   the    dmgiitxi 

trisuoer.  The  Scotch  endeavour  to  deliver  their  GcneraJ, 
Trban  strikes  him  dead  at  his  feet ;  and  then,  threatened  b] 
se\'(-ral  dmguuns,  he  goes  straight  tu  the  one  whu  huliU  the 
of  the  46th,  dismounts  him  by  a  blow  from  his  lance,  kills  hii 
with  B  second  blow,  luid  lakes  the  flag  fmm  him.  He  then  d 
embarrasses  himself  of  another  Scotchman  wliu  closes  upuii 
and  he  finally  returns,  covered  n  itli  blood,  to  carry  to  liis  coloi 
the  fla^  which  he  has  su  glorioiLtly  recouqueretl.  The  Scotch, 
cruelly  iil-trcatcd,  regain  their  lines,  leaving  100  or  HOi)  dead  or 
wounded  in  the  Imnds  of  the  French,  out  uf  the  12<J0  of  which  lhi« 
brigadu  was  composed. 

M.  Tliiers'  stiitements  as  to  the  recapture  of  the  eagle  of 
45th  Regiment  by  Quartermaster  Urban,  which  lie  appisirs 
have  taken  from  the  *  Histoirc  des  Dernirrs  Jours  de  la  Granc 
Armcc*  of  Captain  Mauduit,  arc  evidently  mere  fiction.  Thai 
to  the  correal londi-ncx'  which  has  recently  taken  place  in 
columns  of  the  *Tiinc«'  on  the  subject,  wc  have  at  once  ploci 
before  us  the  evidence  of  Corporal  Ewart  of  the  Scots  Grewir 
who  raptured  the  eagle  in  question,  and  carried  it  off  tlie  field 
and  into  BrusscU ;  of  Sergeant  Swan  of  the  Scots  Grrys,  whc 
saw  it  taken  lnwnrds  Brussels  almut  twelve  or  one  o'clock,  ui 
the  rharge  of  Captain  Fentun  of  his  i»wn  trt»op ;  mid  uf  Ml 
Guaeridgp,  who  saw  il  brouglit  into  Brussels  witli  that  of  tl 
105th  Kegiment  about  four  o'clock  in  the  aftenmon,  and  wi 
allowed  U»  take  httld  of  the  flajcs  by  tlielr  comers.  We  Iuivl*  all 
A  report  liutu  the  *  Kentish  (iaicette'  to  the  effect  that  it  i*a 
Inudcil  ni  Bn>:uUi!iiis  »t  ^  P.M.  on  the  20th  Jtme,  under  clmri 


ftfttl   V^tXttT'  JfltffO, 

ofMaJoT  Perry,  A.D.C.,  niul  Capmin  Wlutc,  H.N. ;  iiml  there  is 

the  olMtiiinte  fact  that  il  Is  at  this  mniiiL-iit  in  (?hplsf*a  HaspitaL' 

Corporal    Kwart  rould  jiot  havi*   *  been    ilisniountetl    hy   a   first 

Mow  and  killed  by  -t.  sccon<l  blow  from  Urban's  lanco,'  berausu 

lie  not  only  oirricd  ofT  his  prize  sal'elv,  but  was  promoted  lo  an 

wwignry  for   liis  exploit,  and  lived   fur  many  years  ai'tcrwards. 

Sir   Frednrick    l*oiisoid)y,    insleati   of  IwitiK   first  taken    prisoner 

ind    then  killwl,  appears  to   have  been  pierced  by  the  hmce  of 

(Jus  ffallant  Urban  whea  lie  was  lyiiif^  wuund<-d  and  disabled  on 

tiie  field.     He  nearly  recovered  afterwards  from  tlie  illtreatineut  J 

wbirh  he  rweivcd,  and  lived  till  the  year  1B37, 

M.  Hugo  has  a  better  excuse  to  oiler  foi"  the  failure  of  thU 
Attack.  Hi?  prc-pfires  his  readers  for  it  by  rclatinff  {in  bis  7(h 
diaptcr)  tltat  in  I'ebniary,  1631,  a  merchant  of  Brussels  had 
bern  crushed  in  the  hulluw  road  from  Ohain  to  Braine  la  l^cud 
luulin-  a  chariot,  ami  tliat  a  peasant  had  also  been  buried  there  by 
a  fall  of  earth  frt>m  a  slope  in  1783.  With  these  proofs  of  the 
tlniigvrs  iif  the  road  before  them,  tbey  are  better  able  to  umler- 
stAiid  (ill  the  9th  chapter)  Imw  much  more  Ukely  it  was  to  bo 
fatnl  to  the  mafi^ificent  cavalry  which  lie  has  doscrilK-d  as 
•parklin^r  so  brilliantly  in  the  sun,  and  creating  cortltquakcs 
during  its  progress. 

*Tho  Knglifili  lietinl  thnm  advatioing, — tho  pittor-pftttor,  oltcmnta 
■nd  symmetrio,  of  8(I0U  hnreca  at  tbc  grand  trot,  tlic  olasbiiig  of  tho,j 
CBiruses,  the  click-K:lack  of  tbc  ewords,  and  a  sort  of  greftt  Mvago 
liaffibg  ami  blowing.  But  no  Koonor  luul  tliey  arrivoil  at  the  ercst 
of  tlui  plntcaii,  nml  white  thoy  were  niHhing,  with  luoso  rotus,  m  their 
ftuy,  aiid  in  tticir  courwe  of  csliimiiuatiou.  upon  the  squares  and  tho 
guns,  ihoy  Huddcnly  perceivefl  lietweon  them  amJ  tlitt  Kngliah  a  *liUi\i, 
s  gTBTO.  This  WAH  tho  hollow  road  of  Ohntn.  Tho  iufrtaiit '  [nr  tho 
ditch  ?)  '  vu  ipoaeaidahle.  The  Sdcond  rank  pushed  the  fintt  into  it ; 
thu  ihinl,  the  moond.  Tho  wanhj  oidaiiin  vaa  but  i>nn  jimjtictilL' ;  tlm 
forco  acquired  to  crush  tho  English  snmshcd  the  Freuob.  lJort«c.^nud 
rideni  rolled  into  tho  road  tiU  it  was  Ml  and  tiiu  rtnoaiuder  could 
rilo  over  thitin.  A  Im^al  trwhtion,  which  uvldejitly  cxaggcmtus, 
■flmis  that  3000  horses  and  1500  men  were  buried  in  thin  hollow 
nod.  Napoleon  luul  rccounoitered  the  gixmnd  without  scoing  it.  but 
had  iiujutrt^  of  the  (^lUilu,  LouimUi,  wliutlicr  tboro  was  xuuh  an  ulwtoclc, 
to  which  he  had  replir/l,  "No."  Thtu  it  wiui  that  a  piiasuiil's  Hhoko 
of  the  head  caUHed  Napoleon's  cat.astroj)ho.  Otiier  fatalitius  iigaiu 
nvm  Ana  to  arriTe,  Was  it  [tossibld  for  Nitpolcon  to  gain  this  hattio? 
No.  By  reason  of  GikI. 
*It  wiu  tuno  that  tins  vast  man  fihoidd  fall. 

'Nftiioleou  had  been  dcnoimcod  ia  tho  Infinite  (rfnJM  Tiafini)^  and 
lus  Ul  wuA  dccidi^I. 
'Jlij'-tiait  Dieu. 
'Wiiicrloo  «V#/  jioi'nt  utw  hataille;  c'm(  h  changemnt  dt  front  de 

\'»1112.— No.  224.  2p  NV.Wm«^> 


M,  Haga  here  describes  Napoleon  in  terms  similar  to  those 
in  wliich  Milton's  Beelzebub  addresses  Satan,— 

*  Loader  of  thoso  umios  hvight, 
Winch  Imt  tho  Omnipotmit  noue  could  )i»ru  foilod,' 

Wc  ngrcn  with  him  in  his  main  fact,  though  we  shonhl  prcCar 
tn  s«?  it  ilifierentlv  represrntiKl.  There  can  \k  nn  dcniht  that  thi 
dimmfiiM  of  Nnpolcon,  after  he  had  fnlfillpd  his  alloltt'd  tAsk  a« 
ficniirfte  and  a  drstroypr,  was  in  Cfimplrte  accordance  witli  tit 
dcsi^s  of  Almighty  God,  who  in  His  infinite  wiwlom  mado 
of  human  instniincnts  tn  brin^  it  about  in  His  own  kimxI  tinip. 
But  M.  Hugo  has  no  right  to  ignore  those  inslnimcuts  for  ilus^ 
gratirication  of  hts  French  readers.  As  well  mi^ht  he  sitj  that  8^M 
more  vuljjar  villain,  who,  after  committing  many  murders  andl^^ 
roblwries,  at  last  assaults  a  party  that  is  too  strong  for  him  and 
reaches  the  termination  of  bis  exploits,  owes  his  capture,  not  tdi^B 
the  rfinragc  nr  strength  of  his  intendetl  victims,  but  to  the  angef^l 
of  ihr  Ctitd  whom  be  has  displrased  by  his  furmrr  outragtrs. 

M.  'IliitTs  rehiti-5  the  progn^ss  of  tlie  combat  nbirh  was 
mnintaincil  to  carry  out  llie  main  pn>jert  of  Napoleon— of 
driving  back  the  left  and  centre  of  the  British  line — at  great 
length  ami  with  much  exaggeration  and  misrepresentation.  The 
French  have  't\v;  cruel  satistaclinn '  of  almost  deslroylng  o 
regiment,  and  of  cutting  another  quite  to  pieces;  llii-y  ta 
ntiinerniis  standards*  and  much  artillery;  and  the  combat  nl 
same  time  is  being  frairied  nn  against  Houguumont  with  injoitl' 
vigour,  J(*r6me's  division  losing  almost  as  many  men  as  t' 
enemy.  At  length  Ney  possesses  himself  of  La  Have  Sainte 
ami  at  lmlf-|)nsl  four  o'clock  thi-  nttnrk  o|'  Rlilow  nn  thr-  extreme, 
right  is  furii'ment  pronoun'n,  N^i'y  and  D'Erlon,  aiid  nul 
Na]Niteon,  commit  tactical  faults — which  tiiei/  cnuhl  not  avoid 
in  allowing  their  four  columns  of  infantry  lo  be  witliin  reach 
the  British  cavalry,  and  thus  causo  a  loss  to  them  of  3000  tneit 
in  killcil,  wounded,  and  prisoners.  'Hie  Pi'usstan  attack  h&Tlng 
become  serious,  Na|K>lcon  projioses  to  arrest  it  for  an  hour  o 
two  at  least,  then  to  n*tuni  to  the  Knglish,  to  move  bv  th 
Brussels  road  uprm  the  plateau  of  Monl  Suint-Jean  wi 
D'lCrlon's  corps  rallied,  with  the  Guanl,  imd  with  the   hcav 

*  M-  Tbien  r«i>n«eiits  tbv  Prrooh  csTalry  u  vooquering  rixtf  gam  aol  i 
Manilaniii.    Allen  •  dmrioa  is  mibidde;  Um  i:9lh  EugUtfa  rccimMit  is  A^M^ 
wwti''r:  Bod  nnotlicr  \*  Ifw^  prttpu  en  vMlier.    Thenuu  wetr  left  ia  IVont  of  I 
■qiui-o  during  llic  cavalry  dtargei,  vbile  ibe  artillerymea  retimJ  iato  thm  Ifan 
pn>tf<-(i(iii,  aiul  niBy  iliiu  tw  Mia  to  have  Uwn  tcnponiriljr  taken ;  bot  not  out  \ 
r\ag\ith  square  tor  hix^W«n.  nor  wu  one  Esftliili  lUn^ard  Mptnrcd.     Aftortliy 
flrM  Kud  lecottd  cbargei  of  tlw  Freoch  csnlry,  (hey  came-  op  in  sack  disorder  nd 
sp  feebly,  that  the  tvi'mite  in  the  Ilriiinb  anoy  Iniighed  at  ibtro. 

Boudes  iizty  gnu  vken  or  aplknl,  and  Btx  staiutanU  taken  from  Engllsli  refV- 
ID  M.  Hugo  aie«rt«  that  the  '  C«im'4*fs  •im^tiit^Wnt  tff4  iMtim  t^r  Irtirr.' 

cftvalry ; 


J 


and  Vvdor  Sitgo. 


433 


cavalrj ;  and  tlirowiii?  Kimw^ir  (inAlI)'  with  all  his  fnrrei  upon 
the  Diiko  of  WoUin^iton,  to  finish  up  witli  a  'cow/)  d«  desesjtoir.' 
He  prc|>ares  towoids  five  o'clock  to  *  foiulre'  hit  fil'tcon  battalions 
of  the  Old  and  Middle  Guard,  with  the  cavalry  of  the  Guard,  and 
the  reserve  of  the  hrnvy  cavalry,  upon  the  English,  ccmtne  lajoudrf^ 
after  he  has  seen  the  end  of  the  Prussian  attack ;  mid  tliis  will 
give  Grouchy  time  to  appivir.  The  Jlritish  artillery  is  without 
support,  tJio  Britiiih  iiifantr)'  retroKradcs.  The  French  cuirawier*, 
who  are  the  oldest  soldiers  in  the  French  array,  ffratify  their 
mge  (assouvissctU  leur  rat/e)  by  killing  the  latter  without  mercy. 
The  remains  of  the  Uritish  cavalry,  being  Oimwn  inlo  tlio  p^^e, 
are  sncrifieetl. 

But  in  spite  of  all  thrso  successf>s  ihn  situation  has  beromn 
very  serious.  Ncy  sends  Colonel  Hevmea  to  tlemand  more 
infantry  from  Napoleon,  who  replies,  with  an  initation  which 
be  can  no  longer  conceal,  *  O'u  ceut-tl  (/wjmt  pretinei  l^'ettt-ii 
que  fcH  fanae  f aire  i  Voijez  ce  que  jai  mr  Ics  hrag^  et  votfez  h 
qui  ma  rcate.*  And  to  eiplain  the  cauw!  of  theso  prnteiidcd 
apprehensions,  M.  Thiers  t^nes  on  to  tell  us  that  dense  columns 
nf  (lie  Prussians  were  aniviiif; — at  about  5*  p.m. — to  join  tho 
corps  of  Billow,  oonloiniiiff  3:i,fKH)  wf/i,  which  Napoleon  endea- 
vounMl  to  stop  with  llie  10,()(X)  s<ildicr?  of  X^obau ;  and  tlmt  it 
was  at  that  time  evident  that  ho  would  have  to  opjiose  die  whole 
forres  nt'  Bliicher,  consistlni;  of  80,000  men,  with  the  infantry  of 
tlic  Guard,  cumprising  13,000  men.  H(«  adds,  that  if  Napnlpon 
had  h<rcn  able  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  the  state  of  tho  British 
army,  and  if  the  peril  on  the  rif^ht  had  not  been  so  much  agsfm- 
vated,  it  would  have  been  pro[>er  for  him  to  have  thrown  tho 
infantry  of  the  fiuard  uptu  the  Knglish,  and,  alter  having  com* 
pleted  their  overthrow,  to  have  retume4l  agliinst  the  Prussians 
with  his  vietorious  ddbHa,  He  M'ouhl  then,  like  a  strong  man 
witli  two  enemies  to  encounter,  first  have  triumpheil  over  tlie 
one,  and  afterwards  hare  fallen  half  dead  upon  the  cadavre  of  the 
other.  But  he  mistrusted  Ney's  judgment,  he  did  not  forgive 
his  precipitation,  and  he  mtc  the  Prumian  arvty  emertje  rontpteif 
(iortir  tcaife  entitle)  from  that  yawniiu}  yuij  which  vomilcfi  Jorth 
new  nurmifs  nnccasiuffly.  Ho  wished,  tfierffi/ri<y  tcj  am;5t  tht» 
Prussians  on  his  right  by  a  decisive  engagement,  liefore  ho 
attempted  to  gain  a  doubtful  bottle  in  the  centre  over  the  Knglish. 
Regaining  his  composure — it  was  a  trying  moment  in  which  to 
do  BO — he  sent  a  less  hard  and  Ics^  disheortctung  reply  to  Ncy 

*  M.  fingo  IvUs  lis  Ihnt  at  this  bov  Bi'tlow.  whoso  mJviuirrfl  gnanl  wi«  irtmit, 
luid  iiol  hfcii  nW*  to  effi'Ct  uiftlliBf:  but  thKl  niUcliPr.  who  raw  the  peril  of 
WcUbfttcia,  ordervd  bun  U>  attack,  aad  made  ose  of  thv  "tot  rcwirfmiUr.  '  /'/'wt 
domer  tta  fair  A  I'armte  Ai>jjt«ist-' 

2  P  2  than 


4S4  TV  ITdSR-Iw  nT  TUm 

•Aanhfhad  jnT^msS- icrw6cid  id  Hat  bj'^  noodi  of  Coloael 
HmnA,  '^ftg^rr**;^  tiT**  ^o:  t^  esbiiai  was  cqnallr  difficult 
jipcei  -^  p^T-TTT  tf*  Mm:  Saiat-JexB.  sad  i^ra  dr  banks  of  tbe 
LuDT ;  <«'^  fxitaf  ixr  2a  hrcj  is  titejit-  ar  TmmtJL  jPrMtnemaei 
t^»:  Tim  ^■'Vi^^  Tvpc^sni  'avsc  £e  i-iiCMgJ  'laaz  progrru,  he 
Vvncjd  ^vc«id  wra  tzif'  Gu:^  ;'>  mcpurtr  bnr  a  dnpnatr  cfixt 
^  Lal^-£%izif>^  -rSrs:c7  ^''^^'^  ^  F.pr"'T*V  :  ^bax  Ibr  atut  maintain 
UmsKf  ia  liie  mnftzt  dmr  a:  all  xanndK  ca  ^f  pdaacan  vliidi  he 
\m^  iaxaeA  so  sanc^  ic»  gaza.  aik£  SK  a:  :bF  cad  erf  an  boar  he 

h  bks  brca  wl!  ccsmw:  W  M.  MaocrJ  ^dsaa  Aeiv  air  two 
bani-»  «  Wtterjco — tia:  w^c*  Bu:i:ajar5p  aw  <n  Are  1^  rf 
J^SR.  aiid  af^rwar^s  rrj&rifi  w5:±  a  oersaEa  deerre  o£  Cranknen 
is  "ix  ■  Si^«jv; -sifa:  F-rr^jriiT-a^ '  <i  ibr  'Monivar'  «n  the 
ilia  Jr3R.  i?U — ui  tii»5  wii,:*  *i*  a^-^xiics  harr  since 
ci&-v>TiRni,  ani  i^t^  fSLbcCl^s^ini  wh^  ill.  "Cx  fins  of  Anr 
xsaOm  aad  ^brir  iscafizuS.xiL  Tbr  Waaniw  cf  M.  Thiers 
2*  ^-oe  ctf  ibe  KtSfClisbfti  .Ta^r.  Nc«  cvaoexs  wiii  ex^gaating 
:3ir  B^^iwTS  *i  iiif  cSaSCisC  «-£  ^  Dcke  df  Wc^2in£9oa  on  the 
6fji  i-T  aasT  '^^.-vsazi^  szc  asKrdaj:.  oxcarr  «>  £kct,  that  die 
Ear-a^  ^t^xi  oc  lit  &r:*£T  was  <vin:p3ard  «.>f  vTCeraas  from  tbe 
PcTiiTMn-'iik  be  o??ar3  fri.-a£  -r-irJt  fdZ  SKxe  wideSj  when  he 
cvtBMS  x>  R«Rkk  >.'£  :bf  Pr=fii5&3&.  He  isaan  die  nnmber  of 
BZi,-w'*  o-Tps  r-i  bsTv  S.---  ^>r  issn:  rt"  ltL*»X  and  he 
azRMiSfs  Tbe  arriTil  .-c"  F.i'.'b?fr  lai  :itf  i^Tsre  c-i'Tbe  *  f ,*fl/iir-' *  of 

\"»7«.''^-'c  .■•a:.".,-  r-.v  p.'ssk.'ri.^  bi*-,'  ■fxtwrwoord  tb?  sensations, 
3.x  i-'.'cji  .:  bi''  f  .x-,-.irT-*^  r.-  ^s  T-"*  :sjc?  tl:?  oniers  and 
3>«aa.r?i.  wbi.-b  M.  ri:-;r»  ^Izr.^-':?*  r.-  b-zn  Tb»:  tbe  neater 
7i.-rd-.-c  .-:  wb»:  «■?  bi*;-  cr^.i  tS-»--  t;  a-o*  !-;ir:b  is  nntme, 
2s  iz  -■o.-r- *»  >I?c::  iT'in  Nsrv-'rf'.-c"*  :■»-=  £r«:  ii«kT!ptioo  ol"  tbe 
rm^'f.  iz>i  re  :bf  ^"jcstf*  .-;:  b.*  iff-wki  H?  wrvxe  and  pob- 
"2Kbfi  tb»  k.v.-c:':^  -.:i  ■:b*  '  M  .■c.-5f'H:r "  Sr».-r*  b?  Lad  time  to 
idt^raib  nz^c  iidz  F-iobfr  ba.i  ■■■csft  -rb^  Ebir.ab  and  under- 
■aifc  -if  TtjjriBi.::  ,-c  b.*  T-.'-r.-v-t  irr--^.  .  -  :!:jl:  Oi^.'ociy  tad  been 
OfCii^fi,  r_^  r-3flr^^r.7:  ."c  tbf  Z>":b  i:  ^Vt*-:-.  ta^  bad  afterwards 
dwrirw-i  ^-"c  tbf  tV;i5si.s,-3^  H^  **»  *-»-ir-  :r.-i=  x3  nrly  hour  of 
tbf  *rcr;it,b  ,-c  F-'.i's-  -vrviSw  i-Tv:  vr.- ^ -.-.: ."i  xr*"-"*;  i:  trom  the 

.rlcr*   -fc  C^c"!  I.>.'u»ii..  I"'.--  •■  s   n,-   f    ii  :^  1      -i."  ~  vifc  •^trr.  i«  t-nifr 

iual  .tf-.-fnrST,  izd  V  ■.if"'.'. -i  i-  .-J  >i  <«■  "./jV  fir  »i  .■  4i£remits*anee 
-=t[ij  '^lul  ">wni':  tf.-»i  J.'  i!>  :ir•.-:^^l  .;=■  r^irvv^s.  ir>I  ibt-  l^ner  of  a 
j-nsKua  ^o<£iKrk.  Itnu  .a  i  VVdrroo.  .riidr^  oKcaKd  ct  ocr  scouts. 

•The 


and  Victor  Hi^o.  435 

jTbe  troops  worQ  full  of  outlmnasin.    Tho  etrcnsth  of  tho  British 

w&s  estimabicl  iit  ftO.OOO  iiicn,ait(1  it  wii«  tliuugut  tliat  a  PruHsiau 

vorps,  whiclj  might  joiu  towurcU  die  cvcoing,  reckoned  about  15,000 
Kncn.  Tho  coomy's  forces  consisted,  therefore,  of  aboTQ  90,000  mon, 
"bat  uurn  were  less  uiuiicrous.' 

He  adds,  further  on — 

*  The  PrHtsiaa  dtvlgum,  whrme  moeementM  bad  been  firrmeen,  eaiend 
into  action  at  thia  time  with  tho  tiroiUours  of  Coont  do  LobAU,  thus 

uaging  tlio  fire  along  ibo  whole  of  our  right  flwik.     It  muj  du- 
<Io,  bcforo  tmdcrtnkiug   tuiythiiig  moro  olauwhcro,  to  uwaik  tho 
of  this  altack.     To  Ihit  atd,  all  (he  retoareea  of  the  retertet  were 
'd  in  rewlineaM  to  mora  to  the  etipport  of  tho  Ooont  do  Lubau,  aiid 
cnutlt  th':  Pnusinn  corpt  as  soon  oa  It  tdiould  bare  adroucod  liu 
eaoQgh  forward.' 

He  again  says — 

*  It  ^eat^posnbie  to  cmpioy  our  in/aatrif  racrcea  tiU  tcv  had  reyt^ted 
the  jiank  attack  of  the  PntMtan  corp*,  Thi*  attafh  ttxut  becoming  oent- 
^miiiy  eaetcnded  tit  a  Hue  peipeitdictdar  to  uur  ritjht  fiank  ;  the  Emfetvr 

^^K  Mnt  (i<r«  Genend  Duhc$mey   \cith  the  Yowvj  Caani.  and  servml 

HNv  batUrie:!.     3^c  encmjf  was  che4:kc<i,  repulsed,  and  JtU  Lack;  he 

nad  eaJmwited  his  strength,  ami  we  had  rtothing  more  to  /far.     This  teas 

hi  nomeni  lh»t  had  bven  indicated  for  an  attack  on  the  centre  of  the 

memg.' 

Bm  not  only  did  NapolcoD  believe,  when  he  saw  tlte  last  of 
them,  that  tbcy  hatl  exhausted  their  strength  nnU  Ikch  bcatca 
lack  ;  he  was  also  under  thn  impression,  as  he  giies  on  to  state, 
tlint  Orouchy,  having  bornme  acrquaintcd  with  the  ninvcinents  of 
tliia  Prusaiati  corps,  was  inarching  ou  it«  heels,  and  thiit  'a 
splendid  success  was  secured  for  the  mon-ow,'  by  his  attacking  it 
from  the  front  and  rear  at  the  same  time.  This  impression  he 
retained,  as  we  now  know,  liri^auw;  Soult  had  sent  to  Groueiiv, 
by  his  dirertioiiii,  a  letti^r  datted  lialf-jKisL  one,  representing  lliat 
it  had  been  seen  to  Iw  ajiproachliig-  from  tlie  French  h(-tul- 
fjuarttif*.  It  did  ncjt  occur  to  him  at  that  time  tn  attribute,  as 
cthcrx  have  done,  and  as  .M.  Thiers  now  does,  the  final  defeat  of 
his  army  to  the  approach  ol'  any  mure  Prussians,  because  he  was 
not  aware  of  Bliirher's  Ijeing  near  him.  He  adds,  on  the  (x>n- 
tmry,  *  After  eight  Imurs'  firing  with  infantry  and  cavalry  cliarges, 
die  whole  army  saw  with  satisfaction  that  the  battle  was  gained, 
Uid  the  field  of  battle  in  our  power/  lie  accounts  for  the  sub- 
Kquent  defeat  by  simply  asserting  that  *a]l  was  lost  by  one 
muincnt's  |>aaic;'  that  'ibc  four  battiilioiis  of  the  Middle  Guartl 
which  had  been  sent  ou  the  pliiteuu  bevond  Mont  Saint-Jenn, 
distressed  1h  the  grape-shut,  ndvaneeil  with  lowered  bayonets  to 
Wny  those  batteries.     The  day  was  closing  fast.     They  could 

nut 


iiir<)rt<?il  (illicrs,  and  nil  was  lost.'  He  sa}s  niilliiiig  ttititv 
of  llie  Prussians.  Thn  tlay  was  '  cloung  fast,'  biil  In?  had  uol 
keartt  of,Uie  ajijiriKii-li  nf  Illuclif^r;  he  b(4irri-d  that  he  had 
clTcctually  checked  itiilow,  and  he  hoprd  bv  the  charf^t'  of  hb 
Guitnl  to  put  an  rnd  at  last  to  the  obstinacy  of  the  Rntisb.  Kot 
only,  however,  was  Najiuleon  unaware  of  ihe  ani>TiI  of  any 
Prumuaii  reiiifcir cements,  but  Blurher  awl  llie  remaiuilcr  <if  his 
nriny  had  nctually  nut  arrived  at  tlm  time  n'ferred  to  by  M. 
Thiers.  Ha  did  not  join  tlie  British  till  9  P.M^  and  he  admitted 
hiuisch*  that  he  found  the  tVench  already  retreating;.  What, 
then,  sliall  we  think  of  M.  Thiers,  when  he  goc«  on  to  tell  us — 

*  In  fact,  whilu  Ciilmiitl  Uc>-nini  wout  to  Ncy  rdtii  Uux  uiswcr,  ii> 
diffi'^runt  from  tliat  which  he  cxpcc-t^id,  tlio  conilmt  uitli  the  Pnutuans 
hud  becomo  n»  torriblo  as  that  mtli  the  En^linh.  Bliicher  arrivocl  oa 
the  spot  in  pcrsun,  that  i«  tu  i^ay,  ou  tlio  hui^hta  which  holder  on  tho 
LaKau,  saw  ^intiiu'lly  that  which  pusHcd  im  tlxj  jiluuuu  nf  Mimt  Kainl- 
Jtmn,  and  althouj^h  ho  wotild  not  hftVf  Immsd  wrry  t*)  Icavo  tlic  Kuglish 
dant  h»  an^amcs,  to  punish  thciu  for  tha  tardy  snccour,  according  to 
hiui,  which  lio  hiul  rocdivud  ul  Liguy,  he  would  uol  oomiiroiuisu  Uw 
oonunon  caoso  by  de$  mcjjHtiw  rvsKHtitHaU*.' 

After  these  most  unjust  remarks  upon  Uliicher,  who  had  eni- 

|>l(iyrd  all  his  energies  to  reuirh  the  field,  and  thought  of  nothing 
}Ut  <Ioing   his  best   to  beat  the   French,   M.  Thien  gtK*s  on  tu 
detail  the  orders  which  wi>re  given  to  tlic  Generals ;  to  say  (at 
page  274)  that  at  six  o'clock  LoIkiu  had  only  5000  infantry  to 
oppose  to  30,000  men;  (at  p.  275),  that  at  hulf-past  six  BUiclier 
had  given  the  onlcr  to  take  Plancheiioit ;  (at  n.  27^),  that  the 
arrival  of  Grouchy  at  the  rear  of  Btilow  (I) — with  Bliicher  and  i 
tlio  nsmainder  of  the  Prussian  army  in  his  way,  be  it  remcui-j 
bered — *  would  Ix-  sufficient  to  pnjduce  important  consequencec  f  i 
and  (at  p.  27^),  that  tho  aspect  of  the  day,  at  first  sombre,  ap- 
nenre*!  to  brighten !     The  heart  of  Napoleon,  oppressed  for  an 
inataiit,  reephait  ;  and  he  was  able  to  reckon  upon  a  new  victory 
in  brinf;iug  up  his  Old  Guard,  as  yet  free,  to  fmish  the  defeat  of 
tho  Engliith  ;  and  he  adds:  '  Up  to  this  time  G8,000  ]-*rt>iich| 
had  held  their  own  against  l40,000  English,  Prussians,  Dutch, 
and  Germans,  and  had  torn  from  them  the  greatest  part  of  the 
field  iif  battle.'     These  numl>crs,  as  stated   by  Napoleon,  were' 
!I0,0()0  Allies,  including  the   Prussians,  again»t  a  lesser  number, 
uot  stati-tl,  of    I'Vciich,      As  we  shuiild  give  them,   there   were 
70,(Hl(J"  tni'H,  including  British  ami  Allies,  between  11  A.M.  and 

•i"jr  tb«  Oukti  bad  (o  TvXy  oriaa^y  upon  bis  XifiW  Orititk 
-^Uir  part  worelvoruiu,  or  yoaag  loUicrf:,  %aA  opoo  1^ 


4*30 


and  Victor  Hugo. 


437 


4*30  P.M. ;  witli  nil  Ailclitiiin  of  10,000  Prilssinns,  iiifilvin^  h  totnt 
of  8t),tMK),  about  A'iO  P.M. ;  iiiul  willi  further  iitJtHtlons  of  lVu»- 
*ian»  up  to  y  P..M. — agaiust,  say,  7i!.0(X)  Frencb. 

TTic  diirLTi'iiit'  Lftwctn  Najxilcoa'i  oHicial  accuunt  ami  llie 
narrative  oi  M.  Tliiers  ns  regonis  the  arrival  of  Iho  Pnissians 
Is  priiKrljmlly  tliis  :~Najwile«ii  c»>rrfctly  statist!  tbat  lie  liail  only 
Biuuw's  curjis  uf  15,000  (nr  1C,0fK))  men  to  o]i|K>sn  on  hu 
right  hofore  he  prepared  the  Guard  to  c!iarg«  tlit-  right  uf  tlus 
English ;  while  'l.  Thiers  inakcs  him  sav  (hat  Ul*  Ixad  at  iliat 
lime  the  whulf  Prussian  army  to  liciil  with.  M.  Thipra  falls 
into  n  furthfi-  (liflirulty  In  susuiiiiiii^  this  po.^il!on.  Napolooa 
lumself  cunstdered  th:it  tht-  muiiiriil  had  Ih-cuiiu?  lavourabto  for 
an  advance  of  his  Ouaiil  because  he  Imd  hcuit-n  hat-k  Iliilnw, 
M.  Thiers  coustdcrs  that  his  prosj>ects  are  brightening;:,  and  is 
obliged  to  represent  him  to  be  of  that  opinion,  while  he  has 
tnUthcr  jtiid  the  whule  Prussian  army  upun  )xh  natik ;  niid  hi! 
tlius  imputes  nothin}!:  shurt  of  madness  to  the  Cfjuiuiander  whose 
renutatiuti  he  \&  slrivirig  t<j  vindieati--.  Iiiderd,  Ue  wcnis  to  feel 
tlus  difficulty  when  lie  says:  *the  Great  Player  had  arrived  al  a 
supreme  extremity  in  nrlilch  prudence  is  despair.'  The  columns 
arc  arranged  for  this  attack  when  some  Bring  is  heard  in  the 
directiuii  of  PajK-lottt-.  A  *sorte  tic frtimnement'  seizt!*  Nhjkj- 
Icon's  heart,  as  IVI.  Thiers— instructed,  nu  duubt,  by  a  compctt-nl 
mcfliuni — informs  us.  This  may  be  either  Grouchy,  or  &  J'retk 
overfluw  (dtibordement)  of  Prussians.  Ills  ini|uietude  inci-eascs 
when  he  sees  some  troops  of  Durutto  abandoning  the  farm  of 
Fapelotte  at  the  cry  of  *  Sauve  qui  jwtii  ! '  from  traitors  or  cowards. 
Napoleon  rides  towanU  the  fugitives,  leads  them  again  to  tlwir 
post,  and  returns  to  La  Haye  Sainte,  from  which  he  observes  a 
etrtain  vhranlvturnt  in  the  cavalry,  liithei-lo  Crin,  A  similar  pre- 
sentiment this  time  traverses  his  gout;  but  he  gives  nothing  lu 
grief,  and  all  to  action,  while  he  sends  Labedoycrc  at  a  gallop 
from  right  to  left  along  Uie  ranks,  to  tell  his  soldiers  that  the  firiii;; 
which  they  hear  on  the  right  is  from  Grouchy,  and  tbat  he  is 
un'imring  a  gnnid  ivsult  for  them,  if  they  will  only  wait  for  n 
few  moments.  After  having  made  public  tliis  ^  utile  vicnaonge^ 
he  decides  upon  charging  with  ten  haiLilions  of  his  Guard  upon 
the  plateau  of  Mont  Saint-Jean. 

It  is  well  known  that  Na|K)lcon  ciFCutatnl  fhts  *nu!tuonffft*  ^^ 
we  cannot  admit  the  utility  of  it,  because  we  think  it  mar  pos- 
sibly have  contributed  to  mcrease  the  panic  which  ensnetl  after 
the  deception  had  Iwen  discovitred.  We  do  not,  however,  under- 
stand how  M.  Thiers  could,  with  full  knowletlgo  of  it,  have 
given  place  in  his  work  to  that  ulher  and  contrary  *  mmsont/e* — 
Uiat  Napoleon  lia<l  sent  to  inTorm  Ncy  of  the  diEBcuIty  of  the 

situation 


438  Hie  WiOerloo  of  Thiers 

situation  alilce  before  tbo  EoglUh  and  the  Prussians,  and  that  be 
hatl  the  whole  Prussian  army  to  encounter.  Of  ilie  two,  wc 
should  believe  tlie  former  to  l>e  the  true  '  men^ouffc,*  even  if  there 
were  no  olJier  evidence  on  the  subject.  It  might  linve  been 
useful,  ami  It  beiLTit  un  itfi  fiiee  tlie  true  Napnleunic  stamp; 
while  the  latter  lias  corttiinlv  nothing;  to  recommend  It,  would 
oulv  have  tended  to  discourage  Ins  Marshal  and  all  w'ho  heard 
it,  ami  would  have  been>  under  an_v  circumst«nces,  an  unlikely 
description  of  ^inaisoiiffe''  for  the  great  French  Commander  to 
propagate. 

We  coine  now  to  that  critical  part  of  the  battle — the  chargtt 
of  tU(!  Guard  ;  and  %v<.'  confess  tlint  we  felt  ^eat  curioMlv  as  we 
approached  it,  to  see  how  ^I.  lliiers  would  make  it  palniable  to 
his  readers.  Nopolron  *  intended  himself  to  lend  thr  six  Iwttnlions, 
n  la  suit€  dcs  ^uatre  premiers,  to  break  the  Englisli  line  at  any 
price,  and  thus  to  end  tJic  day,  si  cea  rvfttemat/n  n'lmt  jms  ia 
ffravitd  qu'il  supjMne*  Conducting  the  four  first  battalions  along 
the  road  towarils  Brussels,  he  met  N^Vt  who  came  to  iafomi  Uim 
that  the  cavalry  would  infallibly  run  away  if  a  [wwcrfnl 
succour  of  infantry  did  not  arrive;  and  he  handed  over  to 
liiin  these  four  battalions,  witli  tlie  customary  caution  that  the 
safety  of  France  depended  upon  the  choige  which  he  was  about 
to  execute.  The  Dakc  of  Wellington  bcm  the  bearskin  caps 
of  the  approaching  Guard,  fet^ls  that  the  supreme  hi>ur  has 
itoiuidcd,  and  that  his  own  g^rcatness  as  well  as  tliat  of  his 
country  will  be-  the  price  of  this  last  effort.  He  tries  to  com- 
ninnicate  tn  his  companions  in  anns  the  force  nf  his  own 
soul.  Kempt  demands  reinforcements,  but  receives  for  a  reply  I 
'  Qu'ih  uieureut  Urns!  Je  nai  pas  tie  rcnforis  a  leur  eiivoffer* 
General  Hill,  the  second  in  command,  says  to  WeUin^t^in: 
*  You  may  be  killed  here;  what  onlers  do  you  leave  us?"  The 
Duke  replies  :  '  Cclui  tie  mvnrirjtisquan  dernier^  iH  h  faui  pour 
ilimv^r  aux  Prussiens  fc  tempt  d^  veitir.'  Tliese  noble  wi>rd*  pro- 
iiuuuixnl,  thi'  Duke  closes  bis  line*  curves  it  slightly,  to  plncr  the 
new  as5;iilants  in  the  midst  of  concentric  fires,  makes  Mnitlnnd's 
troops  lie  down,  ami  awaits  finally  the  apjwarancc  of  the  Ini|>erial 
Guard. 

Ney  and  Friant  lead  forvcard  their  four  butttdions,  and  cause 
them  Ut  dclxMicb  on  the  plateau  eji  ichfhn ;  and  they  ailvnnce 
st4'adily  under  a  heavy  fire.  The  others  follow  with  equal 
firmuess.  They  st»)p  to  fire,  and  return  the  hjss  that  tliey 
receive.  After  having  discharge<l  their  weapons,  they  prepare 
to  cross  bayonets  *  in  mortal  duel  *  with  the  British  iafantf)' :  wliea 
suddeidy,  at  a  sign  from  the  Duke,  Maitland'a  Guards  spring  to 
their  feet,  and   pour  in  a  terrific  volley.      Before    this  *rntftU 

surprise* 


and  Victor  Sugo. 


489 


sarpTtte'  the  French  aoldiers  do  not  give  way,  but  close  their 
ranks  to  march  forward.  The  ohl  Friant,  a  model  of  the  Old 
Army,  retires,  Bcriouslf  wounded,  to  announce  that  victory  it 
certain  if  iVpsh  Iwttaliona  are  only  brought  forward  to  support 
llic  first.  Hp  meets  Xapoleon,  who,  having  |M>&tcd  one  haltnllnn 
iu  Kfjuare  tu  rhpck  the  enemy's  ca^-ahy,  advances  himself"  Hith 
the  remaining  fivr  to  assault  the  British  line.  While  he  listens 
to  Friant,  he  perceives  suddenly  30(>0  horsemen — (the  last  of  tho 
British  cavalry  having  been  long  before  sacrificed) — from  the 
diirclion  «>f  PjijM'lottt',  who  rush  tlown  tbe  slope.  These  are  the 
squadnms  i>f  Vamleleur  and  Vivinn,  who,  feeling  tliemselvca 
supi)orted  by  tlie  Prussian  corps  of  Zieten  from  the  Ohnin  nrail, 
hasten  to  cbarfjo.  It  is  cigbt  o'clock,  and  their  presenre  decides 
the   K-ittle.     Napoleon  hastens  to  form  his  other  battalions  in 

auarer,  ami  to  prevent  his  line  from  being^  pierced  between  L» 
aye  Sainte  and  Plnnchenoil.      If  the  cavalry  of  the  Guard  had 
been  entire,  lie  miglkt.  ensilv  have  swept  away  the  snuadnms  of 
Vivian  and    V'andclrur,  have  coHecteil   his  left  and    his  centro 
engaged   lu    tbc   plateau  of  Mont  iSaint-Jeiin,  bave  retntnted  la 
good  order  towanls   his  ri^^ht,  and  have  slept  on  the  field  of  j 
battle :  hut  there  were  only  400  Chasseurs  left  to  oppose  to  3000. 
Thew' brave  Qiasscurs  precipitate  themselves  upon  tlie  squadrons 
of  Vivian  and  V'nndeleur,  and   make  head  against  those  nenrust 
to  them;  but   tliey  are  soon   driven  back    by  the  evt'r-inpn7;ising 
cavalry    of   the  nnnmy.      Une  vraie  multitude  of    ICuij^lisli    and 
Prussian  horsemen  fill  m  an  instant  the  field  of  bnttlc.     The 
bnH.^lion3  of  the  (-luard,  formed  in  immovable  citadels,  cover 
tliem  with  fire^  but  cannot  prevent  them  from  everywhere  gaining, 
gruund.     T"  increase  the  misfortune,  Zicteits  infatitrijt  foUowin| 
U|xm  the  I'mssian  ravalry,  thmws  itself  uptm  the  half-dc»tn)ye( 
divisitm  of  Duruttc;,  bikrs   poKScssinn   of  I'ne  fiinns  uf  La   Haye 
and  Papelotte,  and  thus  Boizcs  the  pivot  of  the  French  line  of 
liatUe.     All  becomes  trouble  and  confusion.     The  heavy  cn*Tilry, 
surruunded,    n^trents,  that   it    may    not    Ijc    separated    fmni    tho 
remainder,  an<l^  on  sloping  gntund,  lieeomes  an  imtictuous  torrent 
of  men  and  lu/riMis.      IVICrlnn's  d^hris  tlisjterst*  in  the  wake  of  the 
cavalry.     lntu.\icated  with  joy,  the  liiiglish  Geiiei-al  assumes  tho' 
uflcDsive,  and  moves  forward  upon  the  battalions  of  the  Guanl  t 

already 


*  We  pTMone  tbst  this  is  tbe  occvion  on  which,  sccordiog  lo  LsinarttiM,— 

whom,  botrcviT,  we  dn  noi  credit.— NatMilcon.  ptTlcndinit  in  lead  bis  eoliunn 
fofwsnl,  nrord  in  hantt,  slinks  into  s  nholteriMl  hollow,  aD<l  checn  tb«tn  fonrsnl. 

t  H.  Hugo  fgixs  much  (Urtber  than  M.  Thiers  in  tl<«<:rit>jiig  ibu  valaor  suil ' 
Jetperstino  of  \\w.  Gtiarri.     He  even  hivr  thai   aflor  llir  '  Siiittf  qui  pr«t'  bntT 
lYpuced  lh«  '  I'lVt  i' Kitprr^nr,'  arwl  vliil'  tbr  rpinsiniier  of  ihi!  inny  WBi  in 
fltubt,  ii  ooniinued  to  odtsucv  in  ibc  darkncw ;  miiO  tbst '  p«s  un  hmntneme  mawpu 
auraieidf.'    The  tligbt  bfkimilhe  Omirti  was  'lugiUttv.'    *  ToutJUehiitMoiapMt' 

JMU, 


440 


Tlie  Waterloo  of  Thien 


ali'uadv  hat f-ilcg troy ed.  From  Icil  to  riglil  tho  English  atnl 
Fmasiaas  nilvaiicc',  (irpcpdud  hy  their  aitlllerT,  wliicL  vomits 
furth  dt-structiun.  Napoleon,  with  despair  in  his  soul  but  calja 
on  his  brow,  remains  under  a  sliower  of  firr  to  opjMjse  on  iin- 
pcdiinciit  to  tlic  two  vict^trioiis  urinics,  rt-ady  to  recrivf  as  a 
iK-'iit-ftt  tliL-  blow  which  will  delivi-r  him  funn  life.  Tlie  arm)', 
after  hitviiig^  shuwu  superhuman  courage,  falls  &uddenlv  into  tho 
d(.-Gpondency  which  follows  upou  violent  emotions.  It  asks,  it 
ftcarctics,  but  it  no  longer  linds  \apolc«n.  Some  say  he  is  dead, 
others  that  he  is  wounded.  If  one  corps  had  remainwl  cntirr, 
on  wliich  it  could  rally,  and  if  it  had  seen  Napoleon  living,  it] 
would  have  renmined,  ready  again  to  fight  and  Ui  die,  Frnir  or 
five  sijuares  of  the  Guard,  in  the  midst  of  150,0tM>  victorious  mei 
were  as  the  summits  of  rocks  which  the  furious  ocean  cord 
with  foam.  The  army,  drowned  in  tlie  midst  of  the  flootU  of' 
the  enemy,  di<I  not  sec  them  ;  and  it  fled  in  disorder  on  the 
to  Charleroi.  '  L'lmtoirr  nV  jAtis  que  'jve/'/ueg  (Ivses/'oirt  khI 
ii  racoiiter,  ei  die  doit  lea  retmcer  jvur  I  'efentcl  ftonittur  de»  mat 
dc  riotre  ffloire,  pour  la  punttion  de  mux  ijui  prvdigueid  gam 
le  gang  da  liomma  /  ' 

The  above  description,  condensed  from  M.  Thiers,  may  bo 
tnnffnifimte,  mats  die  n'cst  pax  Vhistoire.    The  defeat  of  the  Im- j 
jicria!  (Juard  is  cleverly  conccalctl  under  nn  iraiipnary  clouJf 
of  Ktiglish  and  Prussian  cavalry.     Tills  j^ik)  and  finnl  attack 
was  mnde  during  a  desperate  conflict  In  the  centre;  the  columi 
were  preceded   by  clouds  of  xkirmishciT,  and  fcupportetl   by  i|| 
tremendous  fire  of  artillery  ;  and  a  general  advaiKe  of  the  I'rencU 
line  was  attempted.    The  gallant  veterans  In  the  first  column, 
al^or  havinff  suffered  severely  from   tlir  fire  of  the  English  line,] 
and  fallen  into  disorder,  were   finally  routed  by  the  charjies  of 
Lord  Saltouii,  onri  of  M,itt1and  umler  the  Duke's  jjcrsonul  dircc-l 
tion  ;  and  these  charges  are   not  noticed  by  our  Idstorian,  anyl 
more  than  tho  facts  of  the  French  tbiowlng  away  their  arms  and 
knajKncks,  and  retreating  in  great  confusion.     The  second  column, 
OS    we  well  know,   advanced,  ten  or  twelve  minutes  after   the 
first,  upon  Adam's  Urignde,  diverging  towards  the  right  to  Inkej 
advantage  of  on  undulntiun  in  the  ground.     It   was  subj(M;tetl[ 
to  severe  trial,   in  consequence  nf  Sir  John    CollK^rne   liavlngl 
formed  his  regintent  in   a    line  )iaral1el   to  the  direction   of  il 
marcli,  and  attacked  its  Icfi  Hank.     Its  left  sei^tions  were  wltecled] 
round ;  but  it  was  charged,  after  severe  firing,  by  portions  ol 
three  regiments  on  tliat  flank.    The  British  cheers  rose  above 

ttMt,  roulr,  tinttl-c,  M  htmb,  M  hAle,  m  prJ^iyOr.  tUtajfiwitiim  moUit.'  K.  ttwo 
If  eloqneal  oo  ilw  whoh  satileet.  ■  jUttm  taJbimt  Ut  hmm  k  mm  tmt.  Im 
ttiwu  iletxntu  dterraiiU.    TtUt/Ul  edU/uHa,' 

ahonti 


and  Victor  Hugo, 


441 


Ihat 


AnamXz  of  *  F/ce  tEtnpereurf*  It  was  thrown  mtn  uncnntn)! table 
diforder,  nml  flc<l,  a  amttrrnl  tn.isft,  iiftrr  the  rMii:iins  of  the:  Hrst 
column.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  dt-fcat  of  the  Guard  that  caused  so 
complete  a  panic  iu  tht-  French  army,  aud  was  the*  immwliato 
Dcrnsluti  of  VVclIlnpton's  ndvaticp  ;  whereas  M.  Thiers  rrprcspnt* 
that  flffcat  to  have  been  mused  by  the  arrival  of  the  Prussians, 
and  lh«  ptmeral  consternation  which  it  occasioned.*  Najxdcon 
udmits  the  truth  »o  fnrwhen  he  says  in  his  own  oflicinl  account:— 

*  Towards  half-past  eight  tho  four  hattaltonH  uf  thu  Middle  Cluord, 
which  had  bouu  sent  on  the  plateau  bojond  ^out  Siuat-Jcou  tompp^/rt 
the  Cniroiaiey^,  tcixy  tUtitreiuitd  hg  ijritiw-^Jwt,  luUittfiil  tvitU  hiictred 
ttatftmets  L)  cany  those  hattcrtei.  Thu  da/  »va8  uloHiug  fiiKt:  «  rhanjo 
maiie  on  thdr  jlanka  bj/  several  Brtthh  mquadrow  threw  than  into  diu- 
orihr ;  tbo  ruuawayR  fell  hook  ocrows  tlie  ruTino ;  tUo  noighbonring 

iinonts,  seeing  eomo  tronju  buloai^in^  to  tlie  Guanl  iu  disarray, 
iDUght  it  WH  the  Old  (juard,  and  iHnjamo  QikEtcuIy.  Cries  wuru  rai<od 
fhat  q//  foM  hut — that  Iha  (inartl  mu  drlvea  back.  Tliu  luddit^m  BTuti 
mnintain  that  in  boiuo  {muls  dUnffvcial  men  cxolaicuid,  "jifoure  gtW 
pevt  !  "  iUowover  thi«  may  Luvo  boiiu,  a  jwuio  (ume  terrrtr  pamqVei 
Hpruad  simuIttuiouuHly  uvur  ihv  wholu  liuld  of  boltlu  :  tbo  troupH  riuJimi 
in  tbo  grefttost  confusion  uu  Uiu  lino  of  oouuuuuiciitiuu  ;  foot  gtiiiiitre, 
h-tjiopcrn,  arttUcrymfn,  ammimliuH  twjj^tM,  hurriod  awiiy  to  roach  it; 
tho^Uld  Giiiuid,  which  was  drawn  up  iii  rcHetn^  U(M  infected  hg  it^  and 
dratrn  awaif  %  the  confttf^ion. 

*In  an  tHttatit  the  army  vat  amv€rli*d  into  a  thajiclfM  tMOt*.  All 
urtna  woro  niixtMl  toguthor,  and  It  w»n  intpfimtblu  U)  fbnn  a  stn^Io 
cor|ia  again.  Tliu  enemy,  who  cnn^dit  night  of  this  asioniBbiti^  con- 
fusion, oansod  Bc-veral  oolomiia  of  cavalry  to  debonoh  ;  tlio  dlsurdur 
ininroHMxl ;  thci  cimfuainn  aoeompanying  darkncsn  rHiiihiriKl  all  attt'iupts 
to  ndly  the  troops,  or  ahow  thom  tbojr  error,  incSectoal.' 

M.  Tlticrd  also  endeavours  lo  give  Napoleon  some  credit  fur 
heroism  at  tlie  commencement  of  tlie  rout;  thouKh  ha  is  nbli^eil 
to  admit  that  he  was  not  forthcoming  when  his  presence  was 
most  rcfjuirod.  Napoleon  said  of  liimself,  by  way  of  a|W)h>^y,  in 
the  same  report  in  the  'Moiiiteur;' — *The  very  squadrons  (/e 
fiCrvitVi  iu  attendance  on  the  Emjifror:,  were  uViirthixiwn  and  hurried 
nway  hy  theso  tumultuous  waves,  anil  t/ierc  was  no  itcipfor  it  but 
tofulhic  the  torrent.*  Ney,  who  is  admitted  to  have  been  one  of  tlie 
last  to  leave  tlio  fieUI,  says,  in  his  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Otranto, 
dated  Paris,  2(>th  June,  I9l&,  after  first  expressing  his  extreme 
disgust  at  the  lying  message  brought  to  him  from  Nnpoleim  by 
Lubctloycrc  ) — *I  arrived  at  Marchienne-au-pout  at  four  o'clock  la 


*  M.  Thins  fellows  GomguA't  titsIoii  in  nprcspntiBfC  tJie  rctnat  of  Iha 
Gusrd  OB  resulliug  from,  ratlwr  thsD  ft*  occBsiomag,  ih«  fitHc  in  tiie  mt  of  tb« 
army. 


The  Waterloo  of  Titiers 

Uie  mnnning,  ignoi-ant  of  wkit  luul  become  of  the  Empcmr,  nho, 
befun>  tbe  ond  of  the  battle,  liatl  cntiKlj  dlsappcan^,  and  vihu,  I 
was  allowed  to  believe,  might  be  cither  killed  or  taken  prisonifr.' 
The  Emperor's  disappt'^rance  admits  of  but  niif  intrrprrtatiun. 
His  spirit  was  less  noble  than  his  ambition  was  fjrrat.  A  last 
throw  for  ICmplm  was  worth  ever^'  sncrifiiu  but  one.  Perish  the 
f^llnnt  Nev,  |>erish  die  unrivalled  votcranB  of  the  Imperial 
Guard,  survive  Napoleon!  He  placed  another  at  the  head  of  liic 
men  in  that  desperate  charge  ;  and  he  deserteil  them  in  tlicur 
extremitv. 

Thr  old  story  of  Oenpral  Cambronne  (who  surrenilercd  to  a. 
drummer,  and   nfcenvanis  had    thi-  aKsumnce  to  prt'sent  himself' 
at  the  Duke's  dimier-tablo)  is  repeated  both  bv  M,  Thiera  and 
M.  Huo;o,  as  it  was  bv  M.  de  Lamartine  in  his  'Histoirr  de  la 
Kcstannition.'     M.   Thiers  adopts  the   more   p4ilitr  version  of 
'  L>a  Garda  mcurt  et  ne  se  rend  /«;».'    M.  Hiipo  pmduees  ihe  vulvar 
wonl  which  this  sciitcnre  is  lauji^hin^lv  siippiiscd  by  Frenchtoea 
to  reprcsfiit,  but  which  we  ciunol  here  do  more  than  refer  to. 
M.  de  Lamartine  hints  at  the  use  of  the  same  word,  but  has  the 
jrood  Irtstc  to  omit  it.     M.   Hugo,   however,  goes  further.     Hcj 
devotes  a  whole  L'haptrr  to  tlie  glorification  of  this  word,  and  of] 
its  supjMJsed  employer.     *  Parmi  ees  fft'<nUs,  it  y  ciU  nn  /iVim— I 
Camhnmiie.     Dire  ce  mot,  rt  mourir  ensuHr,  tptoi  tit;  phis  ffra^ndV . 
....  *  Uhommr,  qui  a  ijntjm'^  Id  haiaiUe  de  Waterloo^  cc  »'rat  j/OM 
iVa/wA4/M  eii  dcrvute  ;  cc  n'est  pas  fVeUini/ton  pliant-  a  quntre  hrurcM,  j 
dt'sesprrc  a  cinq;  ce  n'est  jffis  Btiicfier,  qui  ne  s'est  point  bathi; 
I'kumme  ipii  a  gagn^  h  hataille  de  IVafcrloo,  cest  Cambronne-      He  ■ 
adds,  ill  another  chapter,  *Tlic  Imttle  of  \\*aterloa  is  an  euij^mu.^ 
It  is  as  obscure  for  those  who  have  gained  as  for  bim  who  has 
lost  it.     For  Napoleon  it  is  a  paiiir ;  liliicher  saw  nutliing  in  it 
but  fire  ;  Wellington  n'y  comprend  rien.* 

This    short   cnin|>aigii   Mas    almost    hopeless  'from    the    first  I 
Napoleon   attacked    two  armies,   logrtlwr  vastly  superior  to  hifii 
own,  rominatide<l  by  first-mte  Generals.      He  ovcr-<'stimat«I  ibal 
|)restigc  of  his  name,  the   power  of  his  genius,  and  the  strengtltl 
of  his  resources,  ami  he  did  not  give  ci*cdit  to  bis  opponents,, 
cither  for  their  powers  of  resistance  or  for  the  high  qualities 
they  possessed.      He   trusted   too   much  to  the  rapidity  of  hti 
movements  and  to  lucky  chnnccs,  and  he  neglected  proper  prc-1 
cautions  and  careful  calculation.      He  wna  eminently  jtuccessful 
Up  to  the  15tli ;  but  he  dt'spatchwl  Ney  to  cncxiunti-r  wlial  might 
hare  been  the  greater  part  of  the  British  army  on  the  IGth.  and 
Grouchy,  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Dyle.  to  discover  an<l  check 
the  «holc  Prussian  army  on  the  17th  ami  18th;  and   he  com- 
plained of  their  failing  to  bruig  bis  inferior  amngements  to 


and  Vidcr  Hugo. 


443 


successful  issue  Tlic  objects  of  tbe  Allied  Generals  were  mani- 
fuldf  and  they  odoptetl  thi;  best  conrst*  open  to  them,  at  the  same 
time  that  they  werf^  siifficienilj'  prp|>a,n>il,  as  the  event  proved, 
to  resist  the  mobt  sudden  and  desperate  attack  tliat  could  be 
made  upon  them.  Instead  of  their  being:  surprised  and  out- 
manu-uvrod,  it  was  Napoleon  hiiiisieir  who  met  with  a  reception 
which  he  di<l  not  anticijmte.  He  did  m>t  expect,  either  that 
Bliicher  would  concentrate  his  forces  &o  rapidly  at  Ligny,  or 
that  WetUn^on  wfrnhl  so  s«K>n  put  his  lraop«  in  motion  on 
Quatrc-Bras.  or  that  he  would  make  a  stand  in  front  of  the 
Forest  of  Soif^nies.  He  did  not  know,  even  after  tlic  IJattle  of 
Waterloo,  thnt  Uluclier  had  arrivnl  on  his  flank  with  the  bulk 
of  the  Prussian  nrmy,  and  that  it  was  the  mere  actiilenl  of 
weather,  and  the  state  nf  die  nuirt!;,  that  prevented  bim  from 
arriving;  many  hours  earlier  on  the  fiehl.  Ijecisivo  victorie-s  are 
necessarily  attendetl  with  apparent  risk.  If  Wellinplon  and 
Uliicher  had  cumbinetl  their  armies  in  a  fixed  position,  Nai>ole<m 
would  mit  have  assaultral  them.  Having  no  settleil  (dijet-t  iif 
atlat'k,  no  previouBly-formcii  rntrenrhments  to  turn,  he  was  com- 
lielleil  to  accept  such  battlrfielils  as  they  rho«-  to  offer  him. 
That  of  Lif^ny  was  not  as  happily  choicn  as  it  was  f^nllantly 
defended.  That  <if  Waterloo  was  so  admimbh\and  so  well  held, 
that  the  bravest  marshals  and  the  l»est  soldiers  of  France,  liacked 
by  2-lG  ginis,  couIJ  make  no  real  impression  upnn  it.  Tlie  utter 
panic  that  rnsmil  in  the  I'renrb  army,  the  flight  of  tlin  Kinperor, 
the  (rries  of  '  sative  fjui  pirufy  and  even  of  'y^un/rw,'  from  the 
troops  along  whune  lines  he  had  passed  with  so  much  pomp  and 
cimunstance  a  few  hours  before,  furnish  one  of  the  finest 
examples  in  history  of  the  truth  of  the  proverb — 'Pride  goeth 
bef4>rc  destruction,  and  a  banghty  spirit  before  a  fall,* 

We  admit  that  Nnixileon's  military  genius  and,  national  mili- 
tary glory  are  subjects  on  which  it  is  difficult  for  a  Frenchman 
to  write  with  impartiality;  and  revenge  for  WaterU>o  is  still 
»nppo«cd  to  be  one  of  the  three  missions  of  the  present  dynasty. 
M,  Hugo  cont<rmplates  with  ludicrous  and  bitter  satisfaction  the 
remits  that  might  have  been  produced  if  Napoleon  had  oidy 
gained  that  bulth".  '  IVeUinytnn  acrule  aja  J'ort't  tin  Snitpn'f^  et 
tiniruit^  v'ttait  le  terrosst^mt'itt  dtjinitif  dti  f  Atiqlrtrrre  piir  la 
Fraitctf ;  c'itai'f  Creci/,  Poitiers,  Malpia^td,  et  RamiUies  vejiqts. 
L'honnne  lie  Marenijo  raturait  Af/incourt.'  Wv  are  inesislibly 
reminded  by  this  folly  of  the_  little  boys  in  '  I*unch '  who  went  to 
have  'a  jolly  good  luoh  at  the  tarts  in  the  pastrycook's  window.* 
But  there  Is  artothcr  excase  for  French  ^Titers.  They  have  long 
been  cdiicateil  to  a  contempt  of  truth  in  public  matters.  Najto- 
K  leoa  in  particular  carried  on  a  system,  which  is  now  being  too 
I  well 


444 


Tbf  tVattrrioo  tf  Thur$  and  Victor  lingo. 


well  imitated  in  the  Northern  State*  of  America,  of  nlwAy*  rrp 
Bcnting'  whnt  he  desired  in  prefercnt*  ui  what  orcum'd.  Bullc 
tins  wprp  instruments  of  dpcpptinn.  Prorlamations  were  |»ervct- 
sions  of  events,  recent  amJ  hi*i«rical.  Defeats  were  »U]iprei«ed, 
or  cnnvfrtntl  Into  vitrtorjcs.  French  writers  liave  too  abl^v  sup- 
ported the  fallacies  that  have  under  this  stato  of  thinfrs  been 
substituted  for  facts;  and  their  countrymen  hare  thui  bf-cn  prr- 
cluded  from  ever  learning  thoic  truths  which  ought  to  Imvo  been 
imparted  to  them,  and  by  which  Ihey  vroulil '  doubtless  bavo 
Iwnrfitcil. 

M.  Thiers  and  M.  Hugo  nra  almost  as  bad  as  M.  Lainartinc. 
That  other  ex-«tatesman  has  informcfl  hi^  readers  that  the  Dtiko 
of  Wellington  caused  the  curbs  to  bo  rt^movpil  from  the  bridles 
of  his  cnvnby  horses,  and  that  he  distributed  lirandv  to  bis  men 
to  make  tliem  ilrunk  Wforp  ihey  charf,i'd  thi;  Fronrh  :• — *-  H  fait 
iligtrH'Uer  <rp«u-rfc-iM'e  aux  rftv/th'era  jiaur  cnivrer  rhnwme  tie  feu 
peniitirtt  qur.  le  clairon  (r/jiVro  /(■  cJutval^  (4  iV  lf$  lanu  lui-mimf.,  veidm  \ 
h  trrrCj  air  leu  jientesdu  Mont  Saint-Jearu     He  has  also  told  them 
that   the   Duke,  on   findinjf  tjiat  the  bullets  from    Ids  iufantrT 
suuan's    failed    to  piere*!    the  truimsses  of   the    Freneh    navolrv, 
resortinl  to  itnothei' {■\|MriHri|t.      *IIe  jtasseil  lite  onU-i-  from  rank  | 
Ui  rank  of  his   intrepid   Scotchmen  to  allow  themselves  to  bo  I 
attacked  without  firing,  to  pierce  the  chests  of  tlie  (enemy's) 
horses  with  their  bayonets,  to  glide  under  the  feet  of  the  animals, 
and  to  disembowel  them  with  the  short  sword  of  these  children 
of  the    North.     The   Scotch  obryeil,   and    clinrgeil   on    foot  our  I 
rcjfiinents  of  i-avnlrv.'    We  jiity  the  Freiirh  wlio  aie  ul  llie  mercy 
of  such   hisloriaus;   but  wu  liaiilly  know  wliiit  to  say  of  ibu  his-. 
lorians  themselves.     They  ilo  noi  take  the  tmuble,  apparently,  to 
study  English  accounts  of  the  transactions  that  they  recortl.     Can 
'tliny  bulievo  what  thuy  write?     We  cannot  bring  ourBelvos  to 
stigmatize  tliem  as  luiving,  in  the  terras  which  President  Lincoln 
is  re{»rtLtl    to  have  applied    to  General    Pope — but    which,  &s ' 
regards   brains,    has  since  pn)veil    to   be  untrue — 'great  brains, 
great   indolence,   and  greut  want  of  veracity/     AI.  Tliiers  saysi 
himscli,  in  trying  to  give  force  to  one  of  his  conclusions,  'r/ii^j 
torien  est  jnri;'  but  wc  fcnr  tlmt  history  will  never  )»come  inJ 
France,   if  it  docs  in  America,  that  which  C'lceni  practRimnl  Itj 
to  lie—'  the  light  of  truth.' 


*  *  L'lIislolK  tie  la  RflataarsUan,*  vol.  ir.,  p.  181. 


Art. 


(    *45    ) 

Art.  VI. — 1.  Aids  'to  Faith;  a  Series  of  Theological  Essam  hy 
several  Writers.  Edited  by  William  Thomson,  D.D.,  XjqxA 
Bishop  of  Gloucester  and  Bristol.     1861. 

5.  Replies  to  '  Essays  and  Reviews*  With  a  Preface  by  the  Lord 
bishop  of  Oxfor(t     1S62. 

0.  Seven  Answers  t0  Seven  Essays  and  Reviews.  By  J.  R, 
Griffiths;  with  an  Introduction  by  the  Right  Hon.  Joseph 
Napier,  late  Lord  ChanceUor  of  Ireland.     1862. 

4.  A  Letter  to  the  Right  Rev.  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Oxford  on  the 
Defence  of  the  *  Essays  and  Reviews*  By  the  Ivev.'  A.  T. 
Russell.     1862. 

6.  Inspiration  and  Interpretation.  By  the  Rey,  J,  W,  Burgon. 
188L 

6.  Scepticism  and  tlie  Church  of  England.  By  Lord  Lindsay. 
1861. 

7.  Preface  to  Sermons  on  tfte  Beatitudes.  By  the  Rev,  G. 
Moberly,  D.D. 

8.  T%!  Revelation  of  God  the-  Probation  of  Man :  7W  Sermons 
preached  More  the  University  of  Oxford.  By  the  Right  Rev. 
the  Lord  Bishop  of  Oxford.     1861. 

9.  Tracts  for  Priests  and  People.  First  Series,  1861.  Second 
Series,  18G2. 

10.  TJie  Philosophical  Answer  to  the  *  Essays  and  Reviews.*     1862. 

11.  Charge  of  the  L(^d  Bishop  of  Salisbury.     1861. 

12.  Speech  of  R.  PhilUmore,  D.C.L.,  Q,C.     1862. 

13.  Defence  of  Dr.  Williams.     By  J.  F.  Stephen.     1862. 

14.  Judgment  on  *  Essays  and  Reviews*     1862. 

15.  Persecution  for  tjte  Word.  By  Rowland  Williams,  D.D. 
1862. 

16.  Observations  on  Pantheistic  Principles.  By  W.  H.  Mil], 
D.D.     1861. 

rilHE  controversy,  which  the  publication  of  *  Essays  and 
_1_  Reviews'  woke  up,  has  been  running  its  various  course 
since,  in  January,  1861,  we  called  the  attention  of  our  readers 
to  that  disastrous  volume.  To  many  of  them,  we  believe,  the 
subject  was  then  strange :  and  to  many  more,  we  have  no  doubt, 
the  great  gravity  of  the  occasion  was  till  then  unknown.  Our 
warmest  antagonists  have  charged  upon  us  the  crime  of  waking 
up  the  slumbering  garrison  to  the  coming  assault.  We  accept 
these  bitter  invectives  as  a  praise,  which,  not  in  this  instance 
first,  the  '  Quarterly  Review '  has  deserved  from  all  lovers  at  once 
of  the  truth,  and  of  our  time-honoured  institutions. 

We  shall,  perhaps,  best  fulfil  the  task  we  are  undertaking,  if, 
before  we  review  the  present  state  of  this  controversy,  we  examine 

some 


EL 


suinc  portions  of  the  literature  to  which  it  has  gireo  birth.  How 
large  and  varied  this  has  become,  the  list  at  the  head  of  this 
article — though  it  does  not  contain  the  titles  o(  half  which  lias 
been  written — will,  we  think,  prove.  Writers  of  every  oinas,  and 
of  most  various  merit  and  ihrintfrit,  liavc  mingled  in  tlie  strife. 
Even  the  versifier  and  the  maker  of  jokos  luis  found  a  congenial 
theme  in  a  warfiire  which  bas  really  hod,  as  its  subject,  the 
very  foundations  of  the  Chiistian  faith. 

Midway  between  these  lighter  skirmishers  ami  some  really 
valuable  works,  which  tlie  needs  of  the  times  hnvt*  called  into 
iMPiNg,  slnnd  an  anomalous  set  of  volumes  as  to  which  it  is 
diRirult  to  say^  with  perfect  fairness,  to  which  side  of  the  con- 
troversy they  belong.  These  are  typically  rep-esentcd  in  the 
'Tracts  for  I'riests  and  People,*  on  which,  thcreCorc,  we  will 
first  say  a  few  words.  The  writers  of  these  volumes  are  in  a 
great  measure  occupied  in  replying  to  the  Essayists,  whilst 
yet  their  own  jiositions  are  little  more  defensible  or  less  remote 
from  ortbotloxy  than  those  which  they  think  it  worth  while  In 
attiick.  They  were  begun,  we  are  told,  when  '  the  controversy 
respecling  the  "  Essays  and  Reviews  "  was  at  its  height '  (Preface, 
i.); — that  their  writers  couUI  nut  sym|Mithi»e  with  the  Essn\s  bo- 
cause  of  their  negative  character  ;  nor  with  those  who  condemned 
tliem,  because  the  condemnation  also  was  negative ; — that  tliev 
felt  it  lo  be  their  business  to  *  express  sympathy  with  the  siruo* 
convictions  of  all  parties  and  of  alt  men'  (p.  ix.) ;  and  not  *  tu 
tremble  at  the  censures  of  mobs '  or  '  of  Convocations  '  (p.  x.)  ;— 
and  further,  that  it  was  '  a  special  object  of  tlic  writers  .  .  .  lo 
show  that  opjKJsite  conclusions  *  reaehe<l '  by  opixisilf  pri.»ccSHg 
of  thought  *  are  '  necessary  to  tiie  existence  of  the  English  Cbureh  ; 
and  that,  if  she  fall  into  the  condition  of  a  Church  standing  on 
opinions,  she  will  renounce  her  position,  and  he  deserted  br 
God  '  (p.  xl). 

Vl'hcn  we  add  that  one  of  the  chief  writers  in  these  volumes  is 
the  Rev.  !■".  Maurice,  we  shall  at  once  have  prepared  our  reailrrs 
to  expect,  what  they  will  assuredly  find,  tliat  they  have  to  do 
with  noble  instincts,  with  high  aspiratioiis,  with  considerable 
subtlety  and  power ;  but,  withal,  with  strange  luminous  mists 
which  repeatedly  promise  us  enlightenment  on  tlie  dei'pcst  aiul 
most  interesting  nf  iinan3werr<l  questions,  whilst,  i^ste.^d  of  giving 
it,  thev  arc  ever  hidiny;  from  us,  in  the  puz/ling  luviilutinnii  wilh 
which  their  iuijial[>aij|i'  wreaths  invest  dtrin,  s«ime  of  the  greatest 
truths  which  were  plain  to  us  before. 

There  are  notable  instances  of  all  this  in  the  two  Tracts 
titled   the  *Mote  and  the  Beam,' and  '  Momlity  and  Divinity.* 
Sprinkled  thmugh  tliew;  there  are,  we  gladly  allow,  many  noble 

thoughts 


UgllUI^J 


Aids  to  Faith. 


447 


thoughts  nobly  expressed.  There  is  iJso  a  ^reat  deal  of  the  bard 
langua^  with  which  Mr.  Maurice  seems  incrcasiogty  lu  treat  all 
who  differ  from  him.  Thus,  for  in8tance,^l>cciiuse  we  urged* 
u]Mm  those  who  arc  too  often  iHvided  nsumler  ns  High  Churchmen 
and  l*tiw  Churi-hiiiru,  that,  since  bi>th  jicrccived  the  iiiiiK)rtarii:c 
of  the  great  tiuths  now  in  dispute',  it  was  a  tiuio  for  healing  ani- 
mosities by  a  coitimoa  earnest  rontiMition  for  the  faith  onco 
delivered  to.  the  saints,  we  are  aiiatliematized  in  terms  not 
unwortliy  of  a  legitimate  descendant  of  the  Great  Lord  Peter 
iu  such  words  as  these:  'Merciful  GihI!  to  what  is'  this  writer 
'leading  these  schools?  ...  to  (h-<iwn  tliem  in  a  dead  negation 
of  other  men's  opinions;  in  a  fellowship  of  hatred — accursed 
arrangement  I "  (Iract  ii.  p.  67.) 

The  leading  idea  of  laoth  Tracts  is  the  defence  of  Creeds 
and  Articles  ;  and  here  there  gathers  thickly  over  every  well- 
known  headlantl  what  we  have  venturud  to  designate  as  tliis 
writer's  luminous  vapour.  Of  course  we  agree  altogether  with 
him  in  tleleotling  Creeds  and  Articles  agittnst  all  comers:  but 
with  his  m<xle  of  defence,  which  is  most  characteristic,  we  liave 
no  sympathy  whatever.  Creeds,  we  are  assured,  must  not  be 
regarded  as  containing  anv  dirgma.  They  arc  not,  that  is  to  say, 
what  the  Church  has  always  deemed  tlxcm  to  be,  statements  of 
the  great  facts  of  revelation,  derived  partly  from  primitive 
tradition,  ^tartly  from  the  judgment  of  the  whole  Church  on 
questions  raised  by  heretics  ;  and  therefore,  for  those  who  believe 
in  the  collective  Church  as  the  transmitter  of  the  witness  of  the 
Spirit,  authentic  statements  of  those  facts.  No!  thus  to  treat 
them,  we  are  taught,  is  their  most  deadly  abuse.  '  A  mere  autho- 
ritative declaration  of  faith'  carries  no  moral  power  with  it 
(Tract  vi,,  p.  22).  'It  demands  moral  slavery,  prostration  o( 
heart  as  well  as  intellect,  and  involves  alt  those  fatal  conse- 
quences which  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  has  pointed  out  in  his 
first  sermun,  and  which  he  so  happily  describes  ns  a  neglect  of 
revelation '  (p.  28).  '  VVhea  the  lleformers,'  we  are  told  again 
(Tract  ii.  p.  "IS),  acting  on  this  mistake,  '  put  forward  dttgmatic 
confutation  *  of  error  .  .  .  and  penal  sentences  .  .  .  '  their  own 
doctrine  shrivelled  into  a  dry,  deati,  cruel  formula,  powerful  only 
for  cursing.'  So  momentous  docs  the  writer  think  it  to  avoid 
these  evils,  that  he  consents  to  be  'at  variance  with  his  dearest 
friends,  and  to  incur  the  suspicion  of  deliberate  dishimeaty ' 
(vl.  p.  30),  OS  the  price  of  maintaining  that  in  the  Athanasian 
Creed, '  in  speaking  of  the  Trinity,  we  cannot  be  speaking  of  a 
dog^ma;'  whilst,  if  that  Creed  'does  canonixe  a  mere  dogma, 


*  *  Quarterly  Itovifw,'  vol.  oix.  p.  303. 

Vol.  112.— iVo.  S£4.  2  a 


ind 


tutd  anathemaLize  those  who  dissent  from  it,  we  sbonld  with 
to  ])crUh  utterlr  nud  lor  ever'  (vi.  3(j). 

Aftt^r  the  most  pationt  and  repeated  endearcmn  to  uuderstJUii 
what  all  tiiis  means,  «'c  confess  ourselves  entirely  baflled.  Tho 
Creeils,  bfvond  all  (jurstiun  or  tUspute,  are — as  the  Tract  writers 
argiiir  «'illi  a  jjrcat  deal  of  pump  of  reasouiug",  as  if  persons  could 
be  found  who  de^iiied  the  self-evident  proposition — statemeuti 
abimt  tlie  Divlue  Persons  of  tlie  blessed  Godhead,  not  thojc 
Persons  themselves.  Such  statements  arc  dogmit :  dogma  con- 
cerning the  facts  which  are  the  most  real  and  most  important  to 
the  whole  reasonable  creation.  They  have,  in  cvcrjr  ag«  of  the 
Oiurch,  been  used  as  pointing  uut  the  u^ht  faith  atid  g^uardinir  the 
humble  from  cmini  concerning-  il.  Mr.  Maurice  baa  invented  for 
them  the  uoweat  and  tlie  most  marvelluus  use.  Creeds  are  meant 
to  deliver  us  from  the  worship  of  opinions  (ii.  38).  '  One  of  ibe 
blc9sina;s  of  liavin^  Articles  of  the  Faiih  is  '  tliat  thcv  permH 
partial  statements'  of  the  truth  (p.  65).  Surely  common  sense 
rejects  such  glosses  as  tlirsc.  Mr.  Maurice,  it  seems  t»»  us;  might 
just  as  well,  when  seeking  Lis  way  through  an  unknown  countrr 
by  the  help  of  direction-posts,  address  his  driver  with  the  wordg^, 
'Signposts  are  all-important.  Little  do  men  wfao  despise  them 
know  how  often  they  themselves  have  profitefl  by  them.  Y« ; 
treat  them  with  all  honour,  but  do  nut  turn  them  into  an  intoler^ 
ablc  abuse  by  conceiving  that  they  are  to  guide  your  course! 
No  ;  they  are  farts.  To  make  diom  guides  would  bo  an  intoler- 
able  tyranny.  Accursed  bl^  such  slavery  [  ^^'^"J'  •*"'  '  '•*  f> 
that  path  iK-cause  anudier  has  set  up  the  sigu  ?  Tlic  prujwr  use 
of  such  instinnients  is  to  protect  our  liberty  ;  to  witness  to  u* 
that  we  may  drive  where  we  will,  may  do  eAerythiii|r,  except 
receive  their  testimony  to  direct  our  steps,'  Conceive  of  such  an 
address  delivered  with  enormous  energy,  atid  you  liavc,  we  be- 
lieve, Mr.  Maurice's  M-holc  doctrinr  on  Creeds  full  of  his  mystical 
eloquence ;  but  we  gniitly  iloulit  whether  tlie  wayward  philo- 
sopher woulJ  not  be  benighted  before  he  reaclunl  his  home. 

vVc  have  dwelt  longer  upon  all  this  than  it  may  seem 
deserve.  But,  in  truth,  it  is  of  no  small  moment  thop>nghly  to 
understand  how  for  in  the  great  struggle  with  unbelief  thews 
writers  will  help  us.  Fur  thev  offer  us  their  service  :  they  con- 
demn alike  the  open  iiifulel,  the  German  rationalist,  and  the; 
Essayists.  Tbey  arc  for  maintaining  the  Faith ;  whilst  thei 
names,  their  high  moral  tone,  their  intellectual  subtlety,  and,, 
above  all,  their  loud,  and  we  doubt  not  sincere,  expres^ioiii 
of  sym|>uthy  with  the  young  and  the  tempted,  must  invest  thei 
writings  widi  much  that  is  attractive.  I'ct,  alas!  almost 
whole  uf  these  two  volume*  is  chancterlscd  by  these  luuy  oiisits, 

amidst 


< 


Aiffs  to  Faith. 


440 


niniilst  which  tho  ohl  Inndiiiiirlts  aru  srarccly  to  be  seen,  ami 
which  can  hardly  Isil  to  bctrny  the  wand(.-rrr  to  the  false  galiU 
snce  of  the  Ixjldcr  spirit*  of  tmticlier. 

One  main  »ubjrc*t  nf  these  attaekj  is  the  second  of  twu 
SRrtniins  prtfuchrri  hpl'on-  the  Universitv  of  Oxfonl  hy  thr  Disluip 
nf  Oxford,  aiid  jnililishtHl  with  the  title  nf  '  Thn  llrvi-latiDii  of 
God  the  Froljiitiun  ol'  Man,**  These  srnnons  ran  iTtpidlv  tliniutjh 
sevcTftI  editions,  ttml  jjave  riw  to  a  controversy  of  which  Mr. 
Maurice  says,  '  The  subject  is  one  of  permanent  interest.  The 
nutlior  critieised  is  the  most  eloqncnt  of  iniHlem  Divines  ;  the 
critie  represents  a  widely-diffiiscd  lay  fcelingr.  Pamiihlet^Iiave  ap- 
penrcd  in  answer  to  the  Layman.  He  has  replied.  Tlie  rontroversy, 
which  has  risen  out  of  tlint  concerning  "  Kseays  and  Reviews," 
may  continue  when  ihcy  are  t'org-oitcn '  (Tract  ii.).  'ITie  main 
ubjcet  of  the  Bishop's  sermon  is  to  set  plainly  before  the  young 
the  principle  that  doubts  about  the  truth  of  Revelation  arc  to  be 
met  like  any  other  temptations  to  evil  thoughts.  On  the  wicked- 
ness of  8iif:h  a  doctrine  the  autlinrs  of  the  *Trarta '  are  very  elo- 
quent. Mr.  Maurice  thinks  that  these  'doulrts  may  have  been 
ca*t  into  the  stjul  by  a  gracious  Spirit*  (Tract  vi.  30)  ;  whilst 
one  of  his  comrades  defines  doubts  as  '  a  sacred  agony  of  man's 
nnturc  (vi.  4)  in  its  noblest  and  most  typical  emtxHlimenti  ;* 
claims,  in  words  we  will  not  reprint,  our  Blesseil  L4>rd  as  au 
inatanee  of  tliem.  He  tlien  pnicecds  tu  revile.  In  good  set 
texms,  the  Bishop  as  romiu};  under  the  condemnation  of  tlie 
friends  of  Job,  because  he  would  deprive  men  of  the  full  and. 
iDDoeent  enjoyment  of  this  *  sacred  agony.'  Almost  ibe  only 
comment  we  will  make  on  all  this  wasted  abuse  is  Uj  (juote  fur 
our  rradi-r's  onn  judgment  the  espceial  passage  in  the  semton 
against  which  It  is  tlin*ctrd  : — 

*  But  go  one  step  further,  and  eve,  if  yon  would  know  the  utter  ox- 
tremitj  of  tliifi  loes,  what  la  the  doubter's  death.  It  m  ahvaja  awAil 
to  meet  groat  and  unchangenhle  rctditica  with  which  w  have  trifltjd  afl 
if  tbey  wore  meauinalefls  shadows.  And  what  s  meeting  with  tbcm  is 
tbi&n  vffin  thiit  dcAubbcd,  when  oouselence,  at  lost  swnlie,  is  crowding 
ou  tho  u£toiiisLi.'<l  memory  thu  rL-con^l  nf  a  Ufo'a  transgrc-ssioDs  ;  when 
the  enemy  is  accusing  and  toiTncuting  the  eoul,  which  is  aU  bat  his 
own ;-  when  tho  tcrribh)  ttuuuuons  to  the  inil>;iiK'.tit  of  the  just  God, 
like  the  low  deep  voices  of  advancing  Ihimdcr-eluudfi,  is  boginuing  to 
ahake  tho  heart ;  when  to  have  a  tinn  hold  on  one  mre  promise ;  when 
lu  eliug  tu  tlio  hum  of  the  Hi»Iur'(i  ^amuait ;  when  to  boo,  as  the 
nmsom  of  a  muliitudo  of  sins,  the  blood  of  His  wounded  side,  would 


*  *TlwlieTHatM)uof{;<MlibePiohalinnorHiu:'  TvoS«niioo9  nri-acfa<-<l  .fotv 
ibe  Universiiy  of  {)xfurd.  Job,  Z7  muA  PeU  3,  IMt.  Bjr  datnud  Lotd  iJikla.  i  gf 
OxToril.    Psrkcrf.  OxforO. 

•ia*A  ha 


i 


bo  indocd  tho  eoal's  only  anrl  its  enffioient  refuge :  then  in  that  boor 
of  agonj  (o  \)0  compassed  iibDOt  with  luiir-choscn  iloabbt,  to  bavo  Un 
rofiuemuntc,  And  tho  tiubtlctic-it,  and  tjio  queetions,  nud  tho  nnccrtaiotir 
vhicb  tbo  man  had  fajtcn  to  himwlf  iiiBtuiKl  of  fiodV  sure  word 
promue  and  tbo  atoning  blood,  gatbcr  in  tnto]w  nnuind   hitn 
tbe  TQiy  fiends  of  tho  pit  snatcbiug  for  his  Konl :  to  havo  Homu  don 
OTor  intervening  between  bin  nnger  grusp  and  every  iirumiM,  belwocA 
his  wretched  soul  and  orcry  visiom  of  the  Lord  Jesnn  CbriBt ;  to  bava 
all  this  and  to  find  do  esc&po  from  it ;  to  baro  lust  the  power  of 
belioring,  luid  to  know,  when  it  ih  too  IhIo  to  win  it,  that  it  is  lost  for 
over;  lo  hare  in  that  hour,  at  best,  "  thy  life  luug  in  danbt  Wfurc 
tbce,"  bocatiflo  only  that  snro  dofimtonefis  of  a  fixed  faith  which  thon 
liatit  tlinmti  awny  con  slioltitr  tlmo  in  that  Hbouk  ;  tu  baTC*  too  probably, 
tliy  doubts  close  in  upon  thoc  iu  lui  unuttomble  duspair,— tJiis  is  to 
dio  tho  donbtor's  dciatb.   From  sueh  a  death  UAj  tho  good  Lord  of  Ht« 
great  mercy  deliver  ns. 

'It  is  ftom  this,  brethren,  that  I  woidd  help  to  save  ynu.  It  ii 
with  thin  yoii  nro  miawarus  trifling,  wht^n  you  open  yonr  seal  to  thi 
first  plaufiiblo  apjmiaclH'^  of  tbo  huliit  of  duiibtiu^; :  it  is  this  Iinrreit 
of  despair  for  which  they  are  sowing  who  flirif;  bronilcast  into  the- 
open  fui-rowfl  of  young  and  generous  natures  the  deadly  seeds  of 
doubtfulness.  Oh,  uruiJ  and  must  fatal  labour  t  For  by  no  after  ftst 
of  bis  eiui  tbo  teacher  root  oat  of  the  heart  of  another  the  seed  of 
death  which  he  has  planted  in  it.  Surely  for  such,  above  others,  was 
the  caution  nritt^iii,  "  Whnso  shall  make  to  atumblu  one  of  tbe%4_i  littls 
ones,  it  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were  bangExl  about  bis 
neck,  and  that  be  nero  drowned  in  tho  depth  of  the  sea."  It  is  not 
frouL  the  imagination  thut  I  havu  drawn  tliis  warning.  I  can  tell  you 
of  an  DToi-shadoning  grave  which  closed  in  on  such  a  stmf^lo  and 
such  an  t-nd  us  that  »t  which  T  bare  glamretl.  In  it  was  laid  a  fmm 
which  bad  hardly  reached  the  fiduetw  of  earliest  uuinhood.  That  yomig 
man  ha<l  gouv,  ronng,  ardent,  and  simply  faithful,  to  tbo  tutelagp  a 
onu,  liimsclf,  I  doubt  nut,  a  sincere  boliOTor,  but  who  sought  to  xeoon- 
eilo  tho  teaching  of  em-  Church,  in  whieb  he  ministered,  with  tba 
dreums  of  lationalism.  His  favourite  pupil  learned  bis  lore,  and  it 
sufficed  fur  his  needs  whilst  hunlth  bent  liigh  i]i  his  youthful  vuioi. 
Itiit  on  him  sickucss  and  decay  closed  early  in;  and  as  Iho  glow  at 
hcaltli  fade<l,  the  intellectual  lights  for  which  he  had  exchangod  the 
simplicity  uf  fiutli  begun  to  poio ;  whilst  tlic  vijior  brood  of  dotlllts 
which  altiioKt  luiAivsres  bo  had  let  slip  into  his  soul  crejit  fortli  firon 
their  hiding  places,  and  raised  against  him  foorfiilly  their  envenomed 
bends.  And  tliey  wore  too  strtiug  for  him.  The  teacher  who  IohI 
Biiggested  could  not  remove  them ;  and  in  darkness  and  despair  his 
Tictun  dic<l  before  his  eyes  the  doubter's  death.' 

We   can  easily  understand    that  biii-li  words  as   thcsef  si>t>kcu 
ivith  authority  to  a  listening  crowd  of  undergraduates,  must  be     ji 
OS  pall  and  wormwood  Ut  tbuse  wLu  sec  but  'a  sacred  aguny  (X^l 
tb:  soul '  in  that  deadly  habit  of  encx>unigiu|(  religious  uuciTtainty^^ 


I 


B_ 


at 

A 


L 


AiiU  tn  Fait f I. 


st  winch  tlie  preacher  strikes.  For  it  is  ngainst  this  encoumf^c- 
ment  nf  <h)iiht  nUmp  that  the  pniK-hrr  nrgucg.  Ho  distingtiishps 
ilircctl^'  )M>twt>pn  tht!  *  ftitlpst  rc^ligiotis  inquirv  into  Knvelntion 
frum  which  ('hriatiaiiitv  has  nothing  to  h>s<','  *  nntl  the*  siurtihi[^.s 
of  f  ncouragcd  douhts.  This  wido  distinction  it  is  the  great  cftort 
of  the  Tract  writers  to  ohliteratc,  and  jct  what  can  be  more  real  y 
It  U  not  that  all  doiiht  ia  sinful ;  some  romds,  perhaps  the 
dRcppst,  must  Ijc  visited  by  it ;  it  is  a  correlative  of  their 
^eater  exjnnse  that  tlie  very  breath  i)f  Henveii  as  !t  sweeps 
over  th«ni  hhuuld  brt^ak  their  calm  intii  tht?  um-asiness  nf  a 
troubltxl  liWrll.  Doubt  thenrfure,  in  ilsL-lf,  is  not  sinful ;  it  t!> 
the  allowance  and  the  encouragement  of  doubting  which  are 
sinful.  It  is  essentially  a  peculiar  form  of  temptation,  and  it  is 
to  be  resisted  ns  a  temptatii)n.  Nor  <locs  this  of  necessity  menn, 
as  our  Tract  writers  assert  th»t  it  does,  that  we  are  to  make  the 
vain  nttenipt  cif  rrusliin;;  it  inerhaiiically  out  of  the  soul,  but 
that,  rcfraiding  it  not  as  a  *  sacred  agony  '  to  he  gloried  In,  but  as  » 
temptation  to  be  resisted,  we  arc  to  use  all  those  means — and 
they  arc  many — by  which  faith  can  be  directly  strengtheneil,  and 
doubts  tlierefore  indirectly  subdued.  The  weeds  are  to  bo 
neknowlctlgrd  tii  l»e  weeds,  and  are  to  be  got  rid  <»f  by  draining 
otul  manuring  and  cultivating  the  soil — the  exactly  opiMisite 
treatment  from  that  recommendetl  by  our  writers  to  Pripsts  nnd 
People. 

Doubts  then  about  God's  truth  being  thus  cai)onizc<l  by 
the  writers  of  the  'Tracts,'  we  learn  that  it  was  Anselm's 
'theory  of  satisfaction  which  le<!  .  ,  ,  .  to  the  notion  of  Christ 
being  punished  for  our  sins'  (Tract  ili.  p.  6);  and  further  that 
•the  inrt(!n'nce  between  the  inspimtiun  of  Isaiidt  and  Sliake- 
speare  is  not  expressible  in  words'  (i.  33);  that  'the  appeal 
to  the  hope  of  reward  and  the  fear  of  punighment  is  not  in 
Christ's  Gospel'  (i.  31);  that  *  the  Scriptures  <lo  not  contain 
the  modem  logical  notion  of  a  Revelation  attested  by  miracles' 
(it.  11);  that  'the  evidential  definition  of  mirucles  is  entirely 
absent  fn»m  them  '  (iv.  13)  ;  tlial  '  the  Scriptures  do  not  place 
tlie  acts  ofClirist  in  a  clojis  called  supernatural.*  and  therefore 
tluit  '  if  one  should  .  .  .  ,  maint.iin  that  ....  tlirougb  the  ad- 
vancing knowledge  and  power  bestowal  by  the  Creator  upon  tlie 
liuman  race,  men  will  be  eimblcd,  without  superiuitural  agency, 
to  do  the  very  works  which  Clirist  ilid,  iK)  sentence  could  1>e 
quoteil  from  Scripture  to  condemn  llie  hyputhcMs '  (iv,  1).  We 
learn  that  '  wo  possess  and  use  the  same  kind  of  advantages 
which  the  Apostles  possessed  and  useil  in  those  mighty  works^i 


I 

I 

I 


hi  which  their  Gospel  waa  comTnended '  (W,  41) ;  tlist  'minion- 
uie»  like  Dr.  Liviagstone  .  .  .  are  oul^  too  readily  taira  fur 
mperhuinnii  pcrsonog^^i's  ;*  aud  that  *  it  it  «  uMUt  daogcrous  inoo- 
vation  tu  Bttrmpt  to  iinitusc  uitraclf^  as  if  bv  Dirine  authml^, 
upon  ll)(?  faith  of  man"  (ir.  33).  Nay,  further:  it  is su^esled l» 
us,  to  ea«c  our  minds  as  to  the  miractUous  iulerpositioiH  wUch 
are  recordn)  in  tho  Bible,  that,  ci}ii3idcriiig  all  thio^  their 
macity  ratber  tban  their  presence  is  tbe  man'el ;  for  that  *iii 
the  time  of  uur  X^ird  even  the  most  cultivated  of  mankind  wetr 
victims  uf  inaj;ie  and  sorcery-  and  enchantments  ....  that  ia 
Judm  a  peculiarly  dark  and  irrational  fanaticism  prevailed  .  .  . 
tlint  iiur  sacred  brxikft  were  not  written  by  some  well-known 
auUitir,  but  were  the  Icgcmlary  product  of  convictions  anrl  senti- 
ments workinpT  in  the  popular  mind '  (iv.  40),  But  we  have  dooc 
The  intention*  of  the  writers  of  the  *  Tracts  for  Priests  ami  People' 
are,  no  doubt,  the  best  and  purest ;  but  we  fear  that,  when  the  har> 
liiiurini;  of  religious  doubts  has  become  man's  sacrett  duty  ;  when 
the  Creeds  have  bsen  emptied  of  dogma  ;  tUe  doctrine  of  the 
Atonement  broujsrht  very  near  to  the  Soctnian  lord ;  the  (iif&rence 
as  to  their  inspimtion  brtween  Shakespeare  and  Isaiah  found 
not  to  be  expressible  in  words,  and  miracles  to  bo  no  longci^^J 
supematurnt  \  there  will  remain  very  little  chance  of  defendini^  ^'^'^^ 
innermost  citadel  agninst  assailants,  though  they  be  as  weak  as 
our  writers  ni^ree  with  us  in  thinking  the  unhappy  Essayists, 
most  rcmarLnble  feature  of  whose  work,  say  the  Tract  writcfs, 
'  its  general  intrinsic  dulness  and  feebleness  *  (vii.  2 1. 

We  turn  now  to  works  of  a  very  different  chamcter.     So  kwg 
as  the  licart  of  faith  remains  sound  in  any  brancli  of  tbe  ChurcK 
the  putting  forth  among  its  members  of  heretical  views  acts  as 
some  external  violence  does  on  the  healthy  body.     It  calls  imt  its 
slumbering  vitality  to  repair  the  wrong.     In  tliis  way,  so  luog  as 
tbe  general  constitution  is  sound  and  healthi'ul,  the  attempts  <i£ 
teachers  of  error  are  overruled,  to  tli?  ultimate  bcne6t  of  tll0 
Cluirch.     Truths  which  slnpt  unpronounced  in  their  unctmscioai 
poji«*!ti>ion  Iwcumc  suddenly  instinct  with  a  new  life.     In  tbe  event 
Arius  was,  though  the  most  unintentional,  yet  the  greatest  teacher 
of  the  Atlianasian  doctrine.     The  historv  of  our  own  Cliurch, 
true  in  the  main  everywhere  to  the  great  Catholic  tmditiona,  msT 
supply  us  with  many  InsttiKes  of  this  salutary  reaction.    Nothing, 
we  believe,   has  more  tended    to    dtfliise   throughout    our    caoi- 
munion    sound   views  on  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism,  than 
ottacksmaclcupcm  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  concerning  it  duri 
»  the  whole  process  of  the  Gorbam  controverey.     So  we  believe 
has  been  already,  and  will  be  still  more,  in  the  course  of  the  dl 
cmdons  tu  which  the  publication  of  ^Essays  and  Reviews* 

si* 


Aids  to  Faith. 


4fi8 


►f; 


given  birth.  The  tcmloncr  of  thu  liuman  mind,  in  tlir  imli- 
vidual  and  in  tliat  ajj^^n^^to  of  individuaU  wliich  mnkes  up  anj 
community,  is  to  be  couiparatively  CHreless  about  tnitlis  wlucb  it 
holds  without  dt£j>uti!  or  trouble.  Tlie  attempt  lu  stinl  imay  llili 
posscaston  first  wakes  up  the  posessor  to  its  value,  and,  turning 
it*  maintcnnncc  into  an  active  effort,  (fives  coasciousu^M  and 
reality  to  what  was  before  a  mere  instinctive  habit. 

Tiie  attack  upon  do^ma  omonffst  ourselves  lias  nwtike  numbrrs 
to  a  sense  of  tlic  valuf  of  doi;Dmtic  truth.  It  is  worse  tlutn  itlle 
to  represent  tins,  as  Air.  Maiirirc  diH's,  as  tlit;  rummuiiitv  in 
hatred  ol'  those  who  had  difltred  fi-om  earh  other  bv  iK-inc;  cuvh 
the  representative  of  different  sides  of  the  cfimtnon  truth.  It  is 
the  ayrec'iuent  of  men  who  have  inhcritt^d  jointly  some  va«t 
treasure,  and  who  in  times  of  security  hare  dilTered,  it  may  lie, 
something  in  their  several  estitnab*s  of  the  value  ul'  its  varioua 
parts,  to  defend  in  a  moment  of  dau^r  the  priceless  «Iepnsit 
~~ftin5t  the  common  robber.     Their  bond  of  union  is  not  hatrotl 

the  assailant,  but  love  for  that  which  heassails.  It  is  that  which 
is  so  f<irctbty  described  in  the  sacred  words  *  striving  together  for 
tlie  Ittith  «f  the  Gospel.'     (I*hilipp.  i.  27.) 

There  are  two  distinct  modes  which  this  defence  may  Msume. 
It  in:iy  act  bv  a  direct  assault  on  tbe  assitilauC  in  defcuiX!  of  the 
doctrine  threatened,  or  it  may  procired  by  the  more  ]>ii)t!live 
<X)ursD  of  niaintaininc  tlie  threatened  truths,  and  so  scren^hening 
the  whole  system  ascainst  attack. 

ICiich  course  hiis  its  separate  wlvantngfes.  The  first  is  more 
direct  in  its  action  upon  the  teachers  of  the  sjieeia)  error  to 
be  refuted:  it  ex|»oses  tlieir  fallacies,  and  by  so  doing-  it  ilamnges 
tlieir  claims  to  authority,  and  deslro\'s  dieir  arms  of  nffeticre; 
and  it  is  thcrrlmc  surest  to  attract  attention  and  to  create 
imme^Iiate  interest.  There  is  far  more  of  dramatic  power  about 
it.  The  refutation  of  ernir — ot'trn  a  somewhat  dull  matter  in  the 
abstract — is  rendere«I  exciting  by  the  atisfit-d  indi;;iuition  witli 
which  the  sense  of  justice  sees  the  individual  offend(>rs  pursued, 
biYiught  to  trial,  and  cimdemned.  liut  against  this  is  to  be  set 
the  ne^tive  tendency  of  this  treatment.  To  condemn  error  is 
not  necessarily  to  maintain  truth  :  and  after  the  satisfaction  of  a 
righteous  indiurnation  a^irnt  an  offeiid<'r  there  is  not  seldom  n 
rcBctionar>'  slunibcr,  as  if  all  had  Ikh-h  accomplished  by  his  chns- 
tisentent,  although  the  treasure  for  the  snUe  of  uliich  he  was 
pursued  has  not  t>een  itself  n^covcred.  The  second  mode,  lhou<;h 
far  less  exciting;,  is  free  from  tlits  evil.  It  proceeds  by  building 
up  against  the  perversion  or  ne^tion  of  error  the  jtositive  uuth, 
and  so  smites  the  robber  of  our  faith  only  incidenb'illy.  But 
whilst  it  lacks  much  of  the  strong  interest  of  the  former  method, 

it 


454 


Aidato  Faith. 


it  is,  in  the  long  run,  the  most  valuable.  The  work  is  pnrclj 
positive,  and  its  interest  is  omluriii^.  The  mere  bmriaule 
ngaiDst  an  ciit'iny  m»,v  at  the  momrnt  uf  attack  be  the  defence  uf 
ftU  wc  %-alu(.',  but  when  the  assault  is  o\cx  it  is  worthless.  But 
the  opening  uf  some  ^reat  militntv  road,  though  rendered  oeed&l 
at  the  time  of  its  construction  by  some  passing  exii^eocy  of  var* 
fare,  is  of  perprtual  value,  by  opening  what  remains  as  a  per- 
manent appronc-b  to  districts  closed  heretofore  to  all  neaauaj 
intercom  munication. 

The  'Replies  to  Essa\-s  and  Reviews,'  to  which  the  Bishop  of' 
Oxford  has  contributetl  a  I'reface,  and  the  *  Aids  In  Faithi'  of 
which  the  thshop  (Thomiion)  of  GIou(x>sier  and  Bristol  is  tbs 
Kditor,  are  good  examples  of  these  two  methods.  The  •  Aids  to 
Faith,'  as  its  title  signifies,  proposes,  upon  the  matters  which 
have  coine  recently  into  question,  to  supply  detailed  statements 
of,  and  arguments  for,  positive  truth,  which  may  so  inform  the 
reader  upon  th«*  whole  question  that  he  shall  be  himself  a  match 
for  the  s<-*tter-f<>rth  of  uld  objections  under  new  garbs,  and  see  atJ 
oaco  through  the  subtleties  which  would  suggest  diflicultie*,  and 
insinuate  the  charge  n{  inqxissibility  against  tliat  which  liaa  been 
recett'ed  from  the  lieginning  as  the  voice  of  God  in  the  ReveUtioa 
of  His  Truth. 

The  volume  is,  in  our  judgment,  worthy  of  its  occasion  and  itsfl 
argument  It  deals  with  the  foundations  of  the  faith  upon  all 
the  great  matters  which  have  come  into  dispute;  and  tliough  with 
various  power  and  success,  in  almost  every  instance  it  deals  with 
tliem  in  a  mode  well  calculated  ia  confirm  the  faith  it  is  intended 
to  secure.  The  work  consists  of  nine  Gssayji,  dealing  respectively 
with  Miracles  as  Kvidences  of  Christianity ;  with  the  Study  u£  tlie 
Kridcnces  of  Christianity ;  with  Pro|>hecy ;  with  Ideology  and 
Subscription  ;  with  the  Mosaic  Record  of  Creation  ;  tJie  Getiuin^ 
ness  and  Autheaticity  of  ilie  Pentateuch  ;  Inspiration  ;  the  Death 
of  ('hrist ;  and  Scripture  and  its  Interpretation. 

There  Is  less  to  object  to  or  allow  for  than  we  should  have 
thought  jKis-siblo  ill  so  many  I'Issays  on  such  high  subjects,  caa- 
tribuled  by  such  different  writers.  In  the  second  Kssnv,  indeed, 
we  think  that  the  writer  sometimes  pushes  t«x)  for  the  inferenc 
which  ht;ilraw5  from  his  leading  principle,  that  Christianity  is  OD' 
historieal  irliginn.  He  sometimes,  doubtless  quite  utiintco-j 
tiiHially,  slide*  into  language  which  would  appe.ir,  in  exattiiii 
the  historical,  to  uiulervaliiR  the  internal  evidence  of  our  ]*'ait 
This  has  led  him,  in  our  judgment,  to  condemn  too  sweepingl] 
what  has  been  calltHl  the  '  Evangelical '  movement  in  our  owl 
Chuixh.  We  have  never  l>ecn  amongst  those  who  have  cU 
their  eyes  to  the  many  evils  which  waited  upon  that  rcallv  great 


awafcjgnt^^j 


AUrio  Faith. 


awiikening.  Rut  we  do  not  diink  thnt  the  first  loss  of  theolo^icnl 
knuwU;d^e  amon^t  us  is  fairiy  tu  be  traced  to  that  source.  It 
befjan  earlier,  U  was  the  hnit^  in  iifreat  measure,  of  iliat  wrelchwl 
p)lify  which,  undiT  die  influence  (if  Bishop  Hoa<ilrv  and  his 
fellows,  discournged  the  promnlion  to  thp  hi^rb  plncos  uf  the  Church 
of  sound  and  learncil  theologians,  and  thought  it  wiser  In  fdl  nitr 
g^cnt  cbairs  with  s&fn  men,  who  would  be  obedient  to  the  jmrtv 
which  promoted  them,  whilst  it  disroumged  diviues  of  puwtTful 
minds,  hiph  attainments,  and  holy  lives,  who  migjht  have  proved, 
in  the  evil  days  %vhifli  foilowed.  leaders  alike  to  the  clergv  and  to 
the  Inity.  This  poHcy  led,  ns  it  always  must  lead,  to  an  age  of  cold 
hearts,  of  worldly  lives,  and  of  doublings  spirits;  and  in  this  dark 
time  these  evils  had  spren<i  to  a  fearful  extent  amongst  our  clergy 
as  well  as  our  laity,  llie  Evangelical  movement  was  the  awaken- 
ing reaction  of  the  great  soul  of  the  nation  against  this  dentlitikc 
itumber.  It  had  not  lung  estnblislied  itself  amongst  us,  and  bad 
Bcarcely  reached  up  to  the  high  jilaces  of  the  Innd,  when  the  pre- 
liminary throes  of  the  great  revolutionary  earthquake  bt^ui  (o 
make  themselves  felt;  niirj  it  was  not  long  before  die  full  conse- 
quences of  such  a  decay  of  faith  were  written  broad  before  nur 
eyes  as  in  characters  of  iire  in  the  convulsions  of  the  neighbour- 
ing continent ;  and  especially  of  France;  in  which  from  many 
causes  the  sleep  had  been  the  deepest. 

Tlie  immediate  work  of  the  leaders  uf  the  new  movement  M-ns, 
it  is  true,  far  more  to  awaken  souls,  and  to  guide  those  which 
were  Just  awakening,  than  to  be  great  in  theological  attainments. 
But  they  were  not  a  set  of  ignorant  men  amimgst  men  of  learning, 
who  fought  for  unlettered  subjective  religiousness  against  a  school 
of  well  furnished  tlieologians ;  they  were  men  whose  hearts  were 
warmed  by  the  great  troths  of  the  Oospel  in  the  nii<lst  of  an 
apathetic  generation.  The  evil  of  exclusiveness,  it  is  true,  fell 
upon  their  party  at  a  later  period,  when  the  followers  of  the  first 
ranks  narrowed  all  the  faith  to  the  comparatively  small  range 
of  truths  (mighty  as  those  truths  were)  which  their  fathers  had  won, 
and  refused  to  share  in  the  increasing  breadth  of  view  which  was 
ilawning  on  the  nwakenwl  Church.  \W  are  bourn),  therefore,  to 
admit  that  thf*  imlignation  which  some  statements  of  this  Kssav 
have  aroused  in  those  who  represent  the  party  to  whose  doors  he 
seeks  to  lay  this  great  reproach,  is  not  unnatural.  We  cannot 
wonder  at  the  aggrieved  feelings  with  which  those  who  know  the 
depth  and  truthfulness  of  that  hold  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  Atone- 
ment aiwl  the  influences  of  the  Hidy  i*pirit,  which  was  the  sheet- 
anchor  of  the  early  Kvangelical  movement,  have  seen  their  fathers 
in  the  Christian  strife  here  at  home  (IrscrllMHl  ns  Co-<ipcniting  in 
any  sense  whatever  with  the  authors  of  that  German  movement, 

which 


456 


AicU  to  Faith. 


wliicb  brought  it  to  pass  among  our  foreign  breihrca  that  *rcli 
gion  was  regnrdoti  as  an  sflkir  uf  sentiment.' — (p.  60.) 

Closely  cunnccted  with  this  vein  of  thought  is  BDotbcr  let^ 
dencv  whicli  may  iH^rhaps,  as  vie  Itavc  lunt<>d,  bi*  Irarcd  hero  md 
t]tt'ro  in  this  Essay — \tt:  mean  a  depnH^iatJua  of  iho  full  weight  uT 
Authority,  and  <if  internal  evidence,  in  the  cxaltatiuii  of  the  iin- 
|K>rtance  of  that  which  is  cxternah     We  quite  mgrr.e  with  the 
writer,  that  to  abandon  the  historical  and  exteroaJ  evidence  for 
the  truth  of  our  faith  noohl  be  alike  foolish  and  lintal.     But,  in 
eslabliHhing  this,  wc  cannot  venture   to  assert  '  that  the  Gospri 
ccrtniiily   never  uiade  its  way  by  first  leeoin mending  itself  to  the 
euiisciijufi  wantti  and  wishes  of  mankind  '  (p.   03).     It  is  true, 
iiwlced,  OS  the  Essayist  says,  that  *  it  wa^  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling- 
btork,  and   to  the  Greeks  ibolishncss'  (p.    U3) ;    but   that  waa 
because  in  them  its  accents  were  drowned  by  the  atorm  of  their 
projudices  ;  but  wlierevcr  it  broke  upon  an  ear  prejierpJ  to  rrcelve 
it,  its  voice  awoke  at  once  in  tlie  listener's  heart  a  burst  of  unutter- 
able joy.      We  tJiuUc,  too,  that  he  has  stated  with  a  breailth  wlik-h 
might  lead  to  a  misapprehension  of  what  we  doubt  not  is  his  tnw^H 
meaning,  the   projwsitiun    that   ^  the  minds  of  many  among  tlm^l 
humbler  classes  in  Christian  lauds  base  their  faith  upon  rational 
evidence  '  (p.  70).    VVe  cannot  doubt  that  he  would  readily  admit 
that  the  Gos]iel  has  spread  through  its  divine   p<iwer  of  ni' 
'the  conscious  wonts  and  wislies  of  niunkiud,'  and  tliat  to  the 
mass  of  the  pooplc  in  Christian  lauds  it  must  always  Ik*  pm. 
pounded  by  Authority  and  received  by  the  action  of  a  faithful 
obctliencc.      When  St.  }*aul    preached    the   Gospel   at  Athens, 
declaring  to  her  philosophers  tlie  Unknown  God  after  whom, 
in   their   ignorance,    they  were  so   passionately  reaching   fortli, 
he     ap|Xfaled    to    their    *  conscious    want« '     and     inarticulate 
*  wishes;'    and    when    the    Moravian    bi-ethi-en   prcarheil    tn    iha 
poor  Grecniandcrs  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement  through  tha 
Cross,  and  found  those  dull  licarts  melt   beneath  the  heavrnWi 
warmth,  the    process   in    such    different    matcriab  was   esnctli 
the  same.     Surely  it  is  to  such    an   inward    answering  to  the 
conscious  wants   in    the    listeners'    heart   of  hearts,   which 
long   been    craving    in    their   dumb    miseiy   for   some   delivt 
and  not  to  teaching  them  the   evidences,   that   St.    Paul 
when     he    speaks   of    'commending    himself   to    every 
coiistience  in  the  fear  of  God.'     (2  Cor.  iv.  2.)     Nor  ■ 
the  hundred  thousand  cottages  of  England  in  which  &e  aoulff' 
of  the   rustic   inhabitants  have   receivctl    the   truth    and    bvoi 
so  enlightened  by  it  .\s  to  do  patiently  dieir  duty  here  and  to 
know  the  calm  peacefulncss  of  a  believer's  death-lied  at  lavt — 
can  we  concctvc  that  their  hojiea  rested  upon  their  having  'lete 


Aids  to  Faith. 


4fir 


the  force  of  evidencr,'  tlioug-h  they  '  never  ooosciously  framed  a 
vyllofrism  *  (p.  G9);  but  upon  tho  fact  that  the*  Gospel  nf  our 
Lord,  propounded  to  them  on  the  authorUv  of  tlic-  Church  Into 
whicb  they  had  been  bnptize<l,  did  meet  all  *  thu  wants  and 
wishes  of  tbcir  own  souls.' 

Of  course,  the  Gospel  e^'cr  had  a  whole  system  of  external 
evidence  on  which  to  fall  back.  Thurc  were,  its  biiitory,  its 
mirack's,  its  fulfdlcd  nrophecios — all  ready  tu  sstisfy  the  most 
intelli^it  iuquiren.  uut  these  were  not  ita  iiistrumeuts  iif  cvn- 
veraiou — these  were  not  tbe  arms  with  which  it  Kub<3uf-fl  t!io 
world.  They  were  the  ffreat  Rosen'e  of  Truth  on  whirh  the 
Ki'auKelist  coultl  fall  back,  and  which  distinguished  the  present 
victory  which  the  aniiouiiccnient  of  the  glad  tidings  had 
won  in  the  souls  whose  L-onseiuus  wants  it  met,  from  tlio  mere 
|iassing  triumph  of  a  groundless  enthusiasm. 

The  truth  is — and  it  is  this  wo  think  which  Bishop  Fitz- 
gerald has  somewhat  failed  to  notice — that  whilst  the  great 
value  of  cjctcrnal  evidence  is  in  the  battle  with  the  world  and 
thr  tmb<'Iiever,  int^Tiiol  evidences  arc  the  strength  of  the  Gospel 
fur  tlie  iisteuer  and  the  faithful.  Even  Dtiraclcs  thems<.-lrc3  were 
not,  [H'0]M!rly  speaking,  instrunieDts  of  conversion  to  thnso  before 
whose  eyes  they  were  wrought;  they  did  but  call  attention  to 
the  message  which  was  the  instrument  c^  convention,  »iifl  tlio 
strength  of  that  message  lay  in  its  marvellous  answer  to  all  *  the 
conscious  wants  and  wishes  of  the  hearts'  of  fallen  men. 

With  this  qualification,  then,  we  can  hcartity  commend  tliis 
volume  OS  one  Toluablc  product,  at  die  lea>it,  of  this  sad  and 
wearisome  strife.  Bishop  Thomson's  own  essay;  especially  in 
its  closing  pages,  rises  often  to  tlie  height  of  his  great  arga- 
ment ;  and  there  arc  some  quite  excellent  passages  both  in  Mr. 
Cook's  handling  of  ideology  and  sulwcription,  and  in  Mr.  Raw- 
Unsan's  *Pr(«»f  of  the  Genuiuene&s  and  Authenticity  of  tbo 
IVntateuch.* 

Hut,  besides  these,  there  are  two  essays  which  rise  amongst  their 
fellows  as  tbe  loftiest  peaks  of  some  mountain  range  where  all  are 
giantj.  These  two  Essays — Professor  Mansel's  and  Dean  Klli- 
colt's — seem  to  us  to  satisfy  everj'  reasonable  requirement,  and 
SOeceK<!ifu[lv  to  fulfd  their  own  high  deitign,  Mr.  Manstd  deals 
with  'Miracles  as  Evidences  nf  Christianity,'  ond  his  treatise 
dispels,  like  the  sun  ujxin  the  mountain-side,  the  mists  and 
ronfusions  vrith  which  the  subtleties  of  doubt  and  error  hare 
sought  to  invest  this  most  important  question.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  give  a  fair  sample  of  hts  mode  of  treating  the 
uuoition,  because  the  tersr  conciseness  of  his  style  and  tho 
close    texture    of    his   argument    will    not    bear    compix-ssiun, 

Uut 


458 


Aid*  to  faith. 


\hc   point 
at  all  ia 


But  wc  must  make  the  attempt  We  will  take  the 
where,  having  sliDwn  tlmt  it  is  impossible  to  believe  at  all  la 
Christ  if  we  dishelievt*  tlie  truth  of  His  miracles — for  thai 
from  tlie  mode  in  which  He  iffers  to  them  any  natural  expla- 
nation of  them  deals  the  deaih-blon'  to  the  moral  character 
of  the  teacher  no  leas  than  to  the  sensible  evidence  of  His  mi*> 
sion — bavm^  demDlisbed  the  plausible  objcciion  that  *nu  testi- 
mony can  reach  to  tlie  supcrrmtui^al,  bccnuac  testimony  can 
apply  only  to  appnnmt  sensible  facts'  ('Essays  and  Reviews^* 
p.  107),  I>v  showing  tliat  dus  applies  only  to  the  testiitiony  «f 
tlie  idKerver  and  not  of  the  performer  of  the  act ;  having  shown 
how  entirelv  the  iinprobabilitv  of  miracles  may  be  rpinovrd  bv 
the  moral  circumstnuces  which  may  call  for  ihem  nml  tmustoiia 
them  fn)m  'uncouth  prodigies  uf  the  kingdom  of  Nature  into 
the  fittinjr  sph'ndours  of  the  kingdom  of  Gmee  ;'  having  expow(L 
the  oht  rallaCY  uf  treating  miracles  as  an  infmction  of  the  laws 
Nature,  by  shnwinp  what  such  a  violation  would  really  be — 
namely,  the  obtaining  in  two  cases  different  rrsultinK  facta  frnm 
the  same  antecedent  causes  ;  whereas  the  believer  in  miraclct 
avers  nut  this,  but  that  there  is  the  special  intervention  of  a  pc 
sfinal  agent  to  prevent,  in  this  particular  instance,  the  action 
these  causes;  he  thus  replies  to  the  seemingly  learned  obji 
tloat — 

*  In  on  Age  of  phynieal  research  Uko  tho  present  all  highly-cnltt- 
vated  miods  and  duly-ndvaucod  iutcllccto  have  imbibed,  luon'  or  losi^ 
tho  lessons  nf  tho  indnctivo  philosnphy,  and  havo  at  least  in  somo 
measure  learned  to  appreciate  the  graa<t  foandation  conception  ot 
tmivarsal  law — to  recogniso  the  iuipoesibility  oven  of  auif  tito  mtteritU 
atoms  sabatsting  togetlief  withont  a  dotcnniniLtQ  relation^uf  any  nctioD 
of  ibo  one  or  the  other,  whether  of  equilibrium  ot  of  uiotion,  with 
reforence  to  &  physical  caiiau — of  auy  moditication  wliatsoercr  in 
existing  uondttions  of  muttiriid  ngtmtK,  unletn  thruugli  thn  invariahi 
operation  of  a  surics  of  otexually  impressed  consequences,  following 
some  necessary  chain  of  orderly  connexion,  however  unpeifBo 
known  to  ns. 

'This  operation  of  "a  scries  of  ctenudly-impresscd  conseqoeaces 
could  hardly  be  described  more  gmnhieally  or  forcibly  tlian  in  tbo  f« 
lowing  words  uf  a  gn^  German  phili)»i{duir : — '*  T^ut  tis  imactno, 
instance,  Uiis  grain  of  sand  lying  some  few  feet  further  inland  tlian  i 
actually  dut:S.  Then  niubt  thu  Ktonii-wiiid  that  druve  it  iu  fmm  th 
eea-slitiiv  have  bcun  strunger  tlioii  it  nc;tually  niis.  Then  most 
preceding  state  of  the  atmo«phero.  by  «luch  this  n'iiid  was  ocoastnosd' 
and  ite  degnx  of  strength  dotenniued,  have  been  difTerent  from  wbsl 
it  actually  n-us;  aud  the  pruTiotiH  ehange-H  which  guvu  riw?  to  this  [nu^ 
ticnlar  wtuthcr:  and  so  on.  Wo  mnst  suppose  a  diflbront  tcmperatnni 
from  that  \vbich  really  existed,  and  a  diBcrcnt  consttttitiuu  uf  %ha 
bodies  which  influcnoed  this  tcm|K;nituru.    Tho  fcrtilitj  or  batromms 


^'1  I 

rn 

'4 

4 


Aids  to  Faith. 


459 


of  countries,  the  dnmtion  of  the  liib  of  man,  depend,  nnqucHtioiinbly, 
in  ■  gnat  degree  on  tempunituro.  How  cui  you  know—Rinoa  it  is 
not  giron  08  to  peiiotriLto  tlio  arcana  of  uaturt',  oud  it  is  tlicrufuro 
allowable  to  ispcak  of  poii-sibilities — how  con  yon  know  thut  iu  liuch 
a  stnte  of  woatkor  us  wu  Lavu  bouti  KnpjioKing,  in  tinlvr  to  carry  Uiia 
gtaiu  of  Band  a  few  jnrds  farther,  Bomo  luiccstor  of  youTH  might  not 
havo  jwriiilied  from  nnnger,  or  cold,  or  heat  long  before  tlio  birth  of 
that  »iu  fntin  whom  too  are  dRKcoiidnl ;  that  thim  jim  might  UQy&t 
hove  bet'D  nt  nil ;  and  all  thni  joa  liure  ever  done,  oad  all  that  you 
eTer  hope  to  do  in  this  world,  most  hare  been  hindered  in  order  that 
a  grain  <>f  nutd  might  liu  iu  a  diffurunt  pluce  ¥  " 

*■  Without  Dttenipting  to  criticise  tlic  argument  as  thus  eloquently 
stated,  let  im  malce  one  alteration  in  the  cii-cnnwtencee  stipposod — on 
altoiatiuit  iieuetisoty  to  make  it  reluYaiit  to  tlui  present  quetition.  IiOt 
us  BuppoKt)  that  the  ^min  of  rauid,  instead  of  being  euTied  to  its  pre- 
sent positiuu  by  ^\-iud,  hiu>  been  placed  there  by  a  man Xbo 

mout  rigid  pri;TOlL-uco  of  law,  mid  uocusKary  PoipKaiKu  awiong  purely 
iDaterinl  phetinmeiiib,  may  bo  tulmittod  without  apprchcitKion  by  thu 
firmcBt  bcUcYcr  in  miracles  so  loiig  as  that  Beqneiitc  is  so  interpreted 
ns  to  h-flve  room  for  a  power  indiBpeusable  to  all  moral  obligation  and 
to  all  religions  belief — the  power  of  Free  Will  in  man.  Deny  tlie 
exiBtenco  vS  a  free  will  in  man,  and  neither  the  possibill^  of  mincles, 
uur  any  other  queBtion  of  roUgitm  ar  morality,  is  wortii  coulouding 
about.  Admit  the  existeuee  of  a  free  will  in  man,  and  we  bavu  tho 
oxperieuco  of  a  power  analogoos,  howcrer  ioferior,  to  that  which  is 
anppDiivd  tu  u|iunitu  iu  tho  ]>r<»luetiou  uf  u  miruvlD,  aud  funuing  the 
basis  of  a  legitimate  argument  from  tho  Ic-i^e  to  the  greater.  In  tho 
will  of  man  nu  have  the  solitary  iustauee  i>f  au  efficient  cause  in  tJie 
higbiKit  twnsu  of  tho  term,  octiug  uuiuug  aud  along  nith  thu  physical 
causes  of  the  material  world,  nnd  prwlueing  results  which  would  not 
IrnTO  hewn  bn>uf(ht  about  by  any  invariable  seiiuonce  of  physical 
causes  left  to  their  uwu  licLiou.  Wu  liavu  evideuec  also  of  an  riaflifily, 
BO  to  speak,  in  the  constitution  of  nature  which  permits  tiie  iuflunico 
of  bamau  power  ou  tliu  plieuDmctm  iif  thu  world  to  be  exercised  or 
BOBponded  at  will  without  utlucttug  tbu  Htubility  uf  tlie  whole.  We 
bavo  thus  a  precedent  for  allowing  the  possibility  of  a  similar  inter- 
ference of  a  highur  nil!  on  a  grander  si;ale,  provided  for  by  a  simUar 
olastieity  of  thu  matter  subjceted  to  its  influence.  Such  interferenoe>i 
whether  prodxuwd  by  human  or  by  superhuman  will,  are  not  contrary 
to  the  laws  of  m&ttor ;  but  neither  ant  thoy  the  results  of  those  laws. 
They  aru  the  work  of  an  agent  ^vho  is  indopendont  of  tho  lauti,  aud 
who,  therefore,  neither  obeys  them  nor  disobeys  tbem 

'Bulwtituto  the  will  of  God  for  thu  will  of  man,  and  tlio  argument, 
which  in  the  above  instance  is  limited  to  tho  narrow  sphnrtt  within 
which  man's  power  con  be  exercised,  beeoiues  applicable  to  tlie  whola< 
extent  of  oreatii>u,  aud  tu  nil  tho  pbeuoiuena  which  it  cmbraoefl. 

'  Tho  fuudauieutol  eonooption  which  is  indispensabln  to  a  truo 
apprehension  of  the  nature  of  a  miracle,  is  that  of  tho  distinction  uf 
uiind  from  mattor,  and  of  the  puwdr  of  tbu  former,  as  a  persuuul,  con- 

saiou«( 


460 


Aidg  to  Faith. 


i9QiiniB,  anil  &eo  ageni,  to  influuQoe  Uio  plienomena  of  the  UtUrr.  Wo 
aro  oonsoions  of  tliiH  power  in  oiiraelvn;  we  eaperiuuce  it  in  uor 
OTerjr-daj  iifa;  but  wo  oxperioncc  also  ita  roftrietion  within  certain 
niUTuw  liuiibt,  tho  princijial  onu  beio^  that  uan'a  iDfloenco  upon 
foreign  bodies  is  only  poBwblc  through  tho  instnunontalit/  id  hi>  own 
body.  Beyond  these  mnit«  is  tho  region  of  the  nuraoi^oux.  In  at 
lutst  thu  great  majurity  of  the  mimuii:«  rL>caided  in  Scriptaro  tb« 
snpsiBatnml  element  tippcnrH,  not  in  tho  relation  of  nmtter  to  matter, 
but  in  that  of  matter  to  mind — in  tho  exerdso  of  a  personal  power 
truUKiM-nOiug  tlio  limits  uf  hi&d'h  wiU.  They  ore  not  so  mueh  Miprr- 
nninral  a»  mtjierhuman.  Miracleii,  as  cvidenoeA  (if  mligiim,  are  foU- 
nocted  with  a  toacber  of  thnt  religion ;  and  their  evideDtial  character 
uousiats  in  the  witnem  which  thoy  Iwnr  to  hini  an  "  a  miui  approved  of 
Qoil  by  uiraelca  uid  wonders  and  eiguti,  which  God  did  by  him. 
Uc  may  nuiko  nse  of  natrtnd  agcnU,  aating  by  thotr  own  taws,  or  b? 
amy  nut :  mi  this  quustiou  various  cuiijuctnruH  may  bu  haxonlcd,  mora 
or  lew  plaasiUo.  The  miracle  coDsists  in  hia  iiuddng  use  of  tbi:ia,  so 
far  u  bo  does  ao,  under  drcumBtanooe  which  uo  kaioan  skill  covld 
faring  nboat.'  * 

Wc  know  not  ^vhere  to  fiml  a  finer  specimen  nf  close  Tcasoning 
and  happy  illustration  than  all  thlti ;  but  well  nigh  every  page  of 
tliis  osaay  would  furnish  others  tike  it,  nor  cuald  we  exbaoit 
them  without  tiunsferring  the  whole  bodiiv  to  our  pag;eK. 

Dean  Kllicolt's  contribution,  whilst  difltTing  in  almost  every 
rharacteristic  of  stvlc,  treatment,  and  illustration  fmni  Mr. 
Mansel's,  is  marked  by  equal  excellence.  There  is  a  complelc- 
nes3  in  his  treatment  of  tlic  objections  of  the  ffainsnver  which 
could  be  obtained  only  by  a  fulness  of  admission  of  all  that  is  tf> 
be  urged  against  the  trutli,  which  at  first  sight  is  sometimef 
n«i»itivcly  alarming.  This  element  of  lus  strength  is  well  exhi- 
bited in  tlio  manner  in  which  be  deals  with  the  favourite  objec- 
tion that  Holy  Scripture  is  not  treated  as  other  lxx>ks  arc,  ihst 
dilTi-rcnt  intiTprctntious  of  the  bame  passage  arc  equally  admitted 
until  all  reality  of  tnoauitig  is  dfslroyetl.  Here,  having  first 
pnived  that  thtrre  '  has  been  from  the  first  a  substantive  agreement, 
not  only  in  tlie  mode  of  interpreting  Sfrripturc,  but  in  many  of 
its  most  important  dctiiU'  Cp*  38U),  he  proceeds  to  admit 
•frankly  the  existence  of  diversity  of  intcrprcUilion,*  and  then 
oslcs,  *  flow  can  we  in  the  same  breath  assert  prevailing  unity 
and  yet  admit  diversity?  I^Iow  do  we  accuunt  fur  a  state  of 
things  which  in  Sophocles  or  Plato  would  be  pvon"Ui»ced  Itt* 
credible  ut  absurd?  At  Gr»t  sight  we  might  almu«t  auppose 
that  wc  had  got  hold  of  one  of  Professor  Jowett's  inainuations  of ' 
the  tallaciousocss  of  the  Scriptmcs;  but  mark  the  lulncas  of  tin.* 


Aidt  to  Faith. 


461 


,and  the  wistlom  as  well  as  tbn  safety  of  the  most  cuinpletc 
admissioa  of  prervthing  the  atlvcnuiry  can  claim  will  be  at  once 
apparent  '  Our  answer,'  continues  the  Dean,  *  is  of  a  thrcefifld 
nature.  Wc  account  for  this  by  obscr^  lag  :Jirst,  that  the  Bible 
is  (iifferent  fioin  every  other  btK»k  in  the  wurtti,  am!  that  its 
interpretation  may  well  he  supjiused  to  involve  many  difficulties 
and  diversities;  secondly^  tliat  the  wurds  of  Scripture  in  many 
ports  have  more  than  one  meaning  and  applicatiua  •,-thirdli/^  that 
ticripture  is  inspired,  and  that,  though  written  b}'  man,  it  is  a 
rcvrlntion  from  God,  and  adumbrates  liis  eternal  plcnitadcs  and 
perfections,' 

Each  of  which  pregnant  propositinns  of  refutation  ho  expands 
into  a  crushing  demolititm  of  the  whole  system  of  the  objectors. 
Nor  does  this  fulness  in  admitting  all  that  is  to  be  said  against 
his  argument  ever  degenerate  with  Dean  Kllicott  Into  a  mawkish 
ttndcmcis  for  the  enemies  of  truth.  So  far  is  this  from  being 
the  case,  that  perhaps  the  severest  treatment  of  their  oScnccs 
against  honesty  is  to  be  found  in  bis  pages.  The  following  pas- 
sage well  illustrates  botli  of  the-se  |)eculiaritii-5.  He  is  rnfureing 
his  third  proposition,  that  Scripture  is  divinely  inspired,  and  prt^ 
ceeds  (p.  403),  *  In  die  outset  let  it  be  said  that  wc  heartily  concur 
with  the  majority  of  our  opponents  in  rejecting  all  the«)rics  of  in- 
spiration, and  in  sweeping  aside  all  tlioi^e  distiuctloos  and  defini- 
tions which  in  too  many  cases  have  been  merely  called  forth  by 
emergencies,  and  drawn  up  for  no  other  purjKtsc  than  to  meet  real 
and  siippiisfd  diflficulties.  Hence  all  such  terms  as  '*  mechanical  ** 
and    "dyitainical"    inspiration,  and  all  tlie  theories  which  have 

grrown  round  these  epithets,  iic.  &ic may  be  most  profitably 

dismissed  fnjm  our  thoughts.  ,  .  .  Tlie  Holy  Volume  itself  shall 
CTphun  to  us  the  nature  of  that  iniluence  by  which  it  is  jx'n'aded 
and  tjuickcQcd.  Thus  far  wc  are  perfectly  in  accord  witli  our 
opjionents,  .  .  .  Here,  however,  all  agreement  C(nni>I('Iely  ceascj. 
....  Let  us  oliserve  that  nothing  ran  really  be  less  tenable 
than  the  assertion  tliat  there  is  no  foundation  in  the  Gospels  or 
Epistles  for  nn\  of  the  higher  or  eujHTnatural  views  of  inspini- 
tion  '.  .  .  which  ussertion — one  of  those  well  denominated  in  the 
wurds  of  Dr.  Moberly  '  random  scatterings  of  uneasiness^'* — is 
then  contradicted  byn  whole  lutgefut  of  direct  quotations  summed 
up  with  tlie  telling  cunelusion,  *  ^Vc  pause,  nut  fium  hick  of 
further  atatj^mentii,  but  fmm  the  feeling  that  quite  euough  has 
bcea  said  to  U'ad  any  fair  reader  to  pnmouncc  the  assertion  of 
there  being  **  no  foundation  "  in  tltc  Gospels  or  Lpislles  for  any 
of  the  higher  or  supernatural  views  of  inspiration  cviitniry  to 


VivSace  to  'Scrmous  oa  tlw  Ik-slitudes,'  p.  11. 


evidence, 


462 


Aida  to  Faith. 


evidence,  and  perhaps  even  to  admit  that  such  aneTtions 
iffnvranee  cannot  be  pleaded  in  eMemtation  arc*  not  to  be  dcemcflj 
cnnsistcnt  with  fair  aiid  creditable  argument '  (p.  407).    And  again  i 
—^  We  are  told  tliat  the  term  "  iiispimtion  "  is  but  of  vesteniay 
....  and  that  the  question  wa»  nut  determined  by  Fatlters  of  j 
the  Church '   (p.  -iOt*)  ....  when  again  succeeds  a  pagcfuJ  of  | 
cnisliing   qmitatitms   calmly    summed    up    by   the   declaration, 
*  Again  we  pause.     We  could  continue  such  quniations  almost 
indefinitely;  we  could   put  our  fingers  positively  on  hundredtj 
of  such  passages  in  the  writings  of  the  I'athcrs  of  the  first  fival 
or  six  centuries;  we  could  quote  the  language  of  early  councils ;[ 
wc  could  |x»int  to  the  plain  testimony  of  early  cuntroversica, 
each  side  claiming  Scripture  to  he  that  from  which  there  couldj 
be  no  apjwal ;  wc  could  even  call    in  heretics,  and  prove,  from! 
their  onn  defences  of  their  own  tenets,  from  Oieir  own  admisvl 
sitms,  and  their  own  assumptions,  that  the  inspiration  uf  StTinlurel 
was  of  all  subjects  one  that  was  runceived  thoroughly  scttletl  and  [ 
agiecd  upon.' 

We  hardly  know  where  to  point  to  a  better  specimen  of  cou-j 
truversial  writing  than  this.  For  fairness  of  admission,  fori 
completrness  of  reply,  and  for  a  just  severity  in  censure,  it  \»\ 
thoniuglily  admirable.  Nor  are  these  tl»c  writer^  only  merits;] 
llicre  are  occasions  wlmn,  abandoning  this  stonier  se^'crity,  lie  trcatt] 
bis  adversaries  with  a  quiet  humour  M'hich  sometimes  tells  murdf 
than  even  the  most  solemn  logic.  Thus  in  expounding  the  first 
of  las  five  rules  for  intcq>rcting  Scripture,  which  he  paraj)hrasc»l 
thus:  'Ascertain  first  what  is  the  onlinaiy  lexical  meaning  of  j 
tlie  intlividual  words;  and  next,  what,  ncconling  to  the  ordinaVy^j 
rules  of  syntax,  is  the  first  and  simplest  meaning  of  tlic  sentcncof 
which  they  make  up' (p.  427), — 'a  threadbare  rule,*  which  hel 
tells  us  *  it  must  be  clear  to  every  quiet  observer  that  there  is  aj 
strong  desire '  evinced  in  many  (quarters  to  evade  and 

'  Koctify,  by  the  aid  of  our  own  "  verifying  faculty,"  the  imperfect] 
ntteronco  of  the  words  of  which  it  is  aasumod  wo  have  eanght  the  real] 
aud  iutouilorl  meaning  I  No  raiMlo  of  int«r|irvtntii:>D  ir  more  con"] 
plctely  fa^cinatiug  than  this  intuitional  mvthod,  none  that  is  mor 
thoroughly  wolcoiuc  to  the  excessive  eelf-suffiulency  iu  regard  to  Serip-I 
toral  iiitci-]>n;lutiMn,  uf  wliieli  wc  uru  iwvi  huvtng  ho  mnrh  cloar  inilf 
ao  much  melancholy  evidence.  To  sit  calmly  in  onr  studies,  to  pi  ' 
force  and  meaning  to  the  laltcring  utt^^raucon  of  iufpirod  ma 
com-'ct  the  tntteriiig  logic  of  nn  AjHjstlo,  to  clear  np  the  niiscoi 
tiona  of  an  KvnagoiiBt  -anfi  to  do  this  without  dost  and  toil,  witht 
cxpotutora  and  a-ithout  vcrKiims — without  anxiotios  about  the  ni(.<aiiri)ga  1 
of  |>artielL-K,  or  huuiilintitpiiK  at  discoverieH  of  laddog  tu-lKiIarNlitp — trtj 
do  all  this  thus  easily  and  serenely,  is  tho  tomptatiou  htrld  uut ;  and ' 

tiko 


Aids  to  Faith. 

tba  w«dc,  tlie  rain,  tlio  iguomnt,  and  tho  prejadiced  are  cletu-ly  proving 
mutble  to  resist  it,'  • 

llie  five  rules  themselves,  worked  out  in  a  detail  of  the  greatest 
power  and  interest,  with  a  refreshing  abundance  of  texts  rightly- 
qaotdl,  and  siilijecled  to  a  really  whrOarlike  process  of  iuvesti- 
gadoo,  are  so  simple  and  complete  tliat  w<>  print  them  as  golden 
canons  for  all  who  would  study  the  Scriptures  arifrht.  They  aiv 
these  :  *1.  Ascertain  ns  clearly  as  it  may  lie  nnssihic  the  literal . 
and  B;rBmmntiral  moaning  of  the  wonls.  2.  illustrate  whrrevtrr 
possible    liy  reference    ti>  histHry,    topography,  and    antiiuiities. 

3.  Develop  and  enunciate  the  meaning  under  thf*  liinitJitions 
assigned  by  the  context ;  or,  in  other  wordu,  interpret  cuntexlually. 

4.  In  every  passage  elicit  the  full  significance  of  all  details/ 
\\1ueh  four  he  gathers  up  Into  tliis  one :  *  Interpret  grammatically, 
historically,  contextually,  and  raiiiuli-ly.'  From  whicrh  he  ascends 
through  the  two  minor  suggestions — -'Let  the  writer  interpreL 
himself,'  and  'Where  possible  let  Scripture  interpret  itself;'  or,  in 
other  words,  'Interpret  according  to  the  analogy  of  Scripture,' — 
to  his  6fth  rule,  'Interpret  according  to  the  analogy  of  Faith.* 
We  would  gladly  give  instances  of  the  application  of  each  of 
these  rules,  but  we  must  content  ourselves  with  one  by  way  of 
example.  It  seems  to  os  to  rise  to  the  l»e»t  of  thiMte  obsen-ntitms 
of  undesigned  coincidences  which  have  given  such  an  umlving 
value  to  the  'Hone  Paulina?'  of  Archdeacon  Faley.  lie  is 
showing  the  way  in  which  the  sense  of  the  Oospels  is  bnniglit 
out  by  a  faithful  use  of  his  fourtlimle  of  'eliciting  the  full  signi- 
ficance of  all  details'  (p.  436): — 

'  Of  wliat  impnrtaiico,  historically  coni»iderrd,  is  the  simple  iulilitiin> 
of  tho  word*It|wv(ra.\^^  in  Luke  v.  17,  as  thawing  the  quarter  whence 
tho  spies  CAtnc,  anti  markiug,  throughout  this  portinn  of  tho  uanntivc, 
thai  luofit  of  tho  chargiis  utul  machinations  c^aino,  not  from  nattviiH  of 
Galileo,  hat  bom.  omisBaries  fixun  a  hostile  centre  !  Mliitt  a  picture 
doM  the  ifv  xpouyuf  aurnvc  of  Hark  X.  32,  present  to  us  of  the  Lord'n 
hoaxing  and  attitutli)  in  this  Hi«  latit  journey,  and  how  fully  it  uxplaiun 
the  iOafifioiyro  which  follows!  How  exprossive  is  the  siiiglo  n-ord 
lMO^fuval  (ALttt.  xxvii.  61)  in  the  uarrmtivo  of  th«  Lord's  burial,  as. 
depicting  tho  stupefyiug  grief  that  left  uthers  to  do  what  the  silterK-by 
□light  in  part  have  shared  in  I  How  full  of  wondrons  signilicancc  is 
^e  notice  of  tho  state  of  tho  abatidoned  gravo-clothofl  in  the  rock-hcmi 
rS^Mtlchru  (John  xx.  7)  t  What  mygtery  is  there  in  the  recorded  posi- 
tion and  attitude  of  tho  heavenly  wtitchcm  (ver.  13)  !  Wiat  n  real 
forcd  there  is  in  tho  siraplo  nuiueral  in  the  record  of  the  ttfo  nittes 
which  the  widow  eattt  iutu  the  treasury  1  8hc  mif^ht  have  given  ono 
(ill  ^it4i  of  what  Scliocttgiu  says  to  the  contrary)  ;  fiie  gave  her  all. 


Vol.  112.— iVo.  S24, 


•  Aids  to  Futh.'  p.  418. 

3a 


Hoir, 


4G4 


Aids  to  Faith, 


: 


Hon  the  frightfol  to.  of  the  domonfao  (Lnko  iv.  31)  tells  almost  pict 
TiAUy  of  the  horror  and  ivcoti  which  was  felt  hj  the  iipirits  of  dikrk- 
nen  ivhuu  they  cftuiti  in  pruximity  to  our  S&riuur  (u(>m|)an-'  Matt, 
29:  Mark  i.  23,  r.  7:  Lake  riii.  38):  fuid  vrhut  light  uid  izil 
throws  npoD  the  rat  i^itr  k.  r.  X.  of  Mark  ix.  20,  in  the  case 
demoDiuc  hoy  1     Agaiu,  uf  what  n^ul  iiuj)ortaiiL-e  itt  Uiu  eimplo  Topei 
0(1;  both  in  1  Fot«r,  iii.  11>  md  22 !     Iluw  it  Itinta  at  a  lilunl  u 
local  descMit  in  one  case,  oiiO.  how  it  enables  us  to  cite  an  Apo«tl»  i 
attoBtiDg  the  litanU  and  local  ucvDt  in  tho  othur  1     When  we  < 
the  latter  with  the  avt^^tro  uf  Luke  xxiv.  61  (b  pasnage  audoubtedl] 
genninc),  and  panse  to  mark  the  tcnso,  con  vc  aharo  in  aoy  of 
mortem  diffiooltios  that  bare  bocu  felt  about  tlio  actual,  and  bo  to 
inatcriaJ,  natun)  of  tho  heuTonlj  myutury  of  the  Lord's  AHConidon?" 

VV'c  must  indulge  in  one  more  quotation,  in  order  to  show 
wholly   diflcrent    vein   of  thfnight.       How  well    does  t\\e  (Ipp 
philos4)phic  tone  of  the  followin}^  remarks  kindle  at  its  close  intc 

eliHpifnt  grandeur! — 

*  In  the  cam  of  unfulfilled  jirophecy,  especially,  tlio  temptation 
indnlgo  in  nuanthorized  speculation  is  oflon  cxceflsivo.  Lrnedv 
and  undiHciplincd  minds  arc  cotnplctcly  carried  away  by  it,  and 
tbo  more  dovout  nud  stjlf-rL-Btniincd  frcijiiciill/  glvo  thutinclres  n 
Sod  extraTagatices  in  this  fonn  of  the  application  of  God'it  Word. 
result  is,  oidy  too  often,  that  bcttor-edocatcd  and  more  logical  rain 
iu  recoiling  ftvm  nbat  they  justly  deem  udioaised  and  propost 
pass  over  too  mttoh  into  tho  otlxnr  extromo,  and  deun  Propbcoy  in  prcry] 
funn  08  a  subject  fur  too  doubtful  and  debataUo  ever  to  fall  within 
the  provinco  of  Scripture  application.  It  \»,  wu  fuur,  by  no  means  to<) 
mnch  to  say,  that  a  ^mt  purl  of  tbu  present  mtilaucholy  xcopticiion  as 
to  MuKMJiuiic  pnijihi-cy  ik  duti  to  the  olroixd  indif/naut  rc-actiun  w 
hcis  Ixion  I>ronght  about  by  the  excesses  of  apocalyptic  iutcrprototi 
The  utmost  caution,  then,  is  justly  called  for  :  nay,  it  perhaps  woi 
be  well  if  niifiilllUcd  prophecy  were  neror  to  bo  ajiplicil  to  any  otharj 
purposes  than  those  of  general  encouragement  and  consolattuu.  Wa 
uiny  oflcn  be  thos  made  to  feel  that  wo  arc  in  the  midst  of  a  prmri* 
dentiid  dispensation— that  though  our  eyes  may  be  hnldrm  as  tn  tbs 
Kdalions  of  contemporaneous  events  tn  the  fntnrc,  whether  of  tlia' 
Ohnrcb  or  of  tho  world,  we  may  yet  descry  certain  bold  and  broad  on 
lines,  certain  tendencies  and  dcrolojtinetits,  which  make  us  wend  o 
way  onward,  tlinnghtfnlly  and  cimin!?»iM:<-t!y — wayfarrrw,  who  gam 
evev^eepeniug  ink^rcst  on  the  contour  of  the  distant  hiUa,  oron  tJioD^ 
m  cannot  cluarly  distingoitji  the  clustered  details  of  tho  ncaror  and 

1~  separating  plain.'  f 

VV>  turn  to  tlie  orxt  T«Inme  on  our  catalognc,  mnsfnirtrtl  in 
the  main  ofi  the  same  principle  ordiffprcnt  writers  of  high  rrpu 


•  •  Aids  to  Kailh,'  pp.  4^6-437. 


t  lUd..  pp.  448-44S. 


todoul 


Aidt  to  Faiih. 


4C5 


tation  tuidertakin)^  to  foroish  replies  to  difficulties  raised  by  the 
£!Mavitta.  For  thongh  this  volumt;  rnkc-s  mnro  lUstinrtlv  the 
fnrm  of  rpplies  to  tliR  Kssays,  yrt,  as  it  is  exploinod  hy  llie  Gisliop 
of  Oxford  in  his  prefnre,  its  pwrnttsc  is  'not  so  much  to  reply 
(lin><.'tly  to  error  as  to  mtablish  tnitli,  and  no  to  remove  the  foun- 
dations OD  which  error  rests  *  (Pref.  p.  iii.).  lliis  preface  is 
brief  and  purely  intrwluctory,  but  it  contains  a  sketch  of  the 
irholc  controversy ;  and  there  js  one  su^rgpstion  in  it  of  such 
gravity  th;it  wc  must  piatri;  it  in  the  writers  own  words  liefim*  oiir 
rnadprs,  Aftt-r  havirijt  Jti^'^n  his  rcaaoiis  for  comidf'rin'j  it  a  short- 
sighted eji.j)lanatton  which  saw  in  this  movement  noihin;;  more 
IMO  a  reaction  from  some  extreme  views  which  hove  disfi^red 
die  great  re-awakening  of  tlie  Church  of  Enyiand,  he  adds  ( Pre f.  v.), 
*  The  movement  of  the  human  mind  has  hcc-n  for  too  widn  spreat), 
and  eunnects  itself  with  far  too  gem-ral  conditions,  to  be  capable 
of  so  narrow  a  solution.  Much  more  tnie  is  the  explanutioa 
which  sees  in  it  the  first  stealing  over  the  sky  of  the  lurid  lights 
which  shall  he  shed  profusely  around  the  g^cat  Antichrist.  For' 
these  difhculties  gather  their  strength  from  a  spirit  of  hiwless  i 
rejection  of  all  authority,  from  a  cla^  of  claims  for  ihe  unassisted 
human  intellect  to  be  able  to  discover,  measure,  and  explain  all 
things.'  If  this  view  be  true,  and  wc  believe  ttutt  it  is,  it  invests 
this  whole  controversy  with  an  almost  fearful  importance.  It 
is  not  the  paltry  and  often  answered  objections  of  tlic  Essayists 
with  which  we  have  to  deal :  they  are  but  the  prelimiaary  drops 
which  tell  of  the  coming  stonn.  Rather  have  we  to  call  upon 
men  to  prepare  for  that  last  and  mighty  tempest  which  shall  pre- 
cede the  blessed  restoration;  for  Mhe  hail  and  fire  mingled 
with  the  hail  very  grievous  ;'  that  they  who  '  fear  the  won!  of  thu 
Lord  may  mnke  their  servants  and  their  cattle  flee  iuti>  the 
faoufit^.' 

There  is  throtighout  this  volume  a  close  and  distinct  dealing 
with  the  Essayists  ihcmiwlvcs,  which  the  more  general  purpossi 
of  the  last  made  unjHissihIc.  And  here  acconUngly,  as  in  e^'eryi 
-otbrr  case  where  these  writers  have  Imen  met  by  men  at  once 
thoroo^hly  honest  and  learned,  there  is  the  complaint  which  at 
iSm  6rst  wc  raised  of  the  constant  recurrence  of  thnt  which  it  is 
ini]]05sibtc  to  account  for,  except  on  the  supposition  eitlicr  of 
eitnionlinary  shallowness  or  of  moral  defects,  which  it  is  for 
more  painful  to  predicate  of  any  man  than  mere  intollectual 
feebleness  or  even  than  iliscredltable  ignorance.  Thus,  by  way  of 
example,  Mr.  Rose  (*  Replies,'  ice.  p.  66)  charges  Dr.  R.  Wil- 
liams with  ^discussing  the  truth  and  the  intrrpreteti<»n  of  Scriji- 
ture  in  a  manner  which  must  leave  an  impression  on  the  minds 
of  tliose  who  liave  not  leisure  or  t>pportunity  to  study  deeply  such 

2  H  2  questions, 


46G 


Aidsto  Faith. 


queftlions,  that  their  faith  is  roundctl  on  i^orance  ur  inunp|>rpbei»- 
uon  ;  and  thus  a  funeral  s|)irit  «f  scepticism  is  likely  to  b?  pro-  ' 
inoted.'      Mr.  Kosc  proceeds    further  to   distinctly  charjfc   the 
writer  with  rndcavoiiviiig  to  create  this  impression  hy  having" 
recourse  to   (ibid.)    'a  series  of  inisrepresnntntions  of  thp  most' 
unfair  and  on<vi>idr<1  chnnu'ler.*      \\  ith  tlie  chief  of  thcs<;  hu  ^^oes 
on  to  deal,  showing  that  wluit  J)r.  Willianu  asserts  'concerning* 
the  state  of  opinion  as  to  the  Scriptures  amongst  the  learned  men  • 
of  Gennnny  is  utterly  at  variance  with  fact  '  (p.  67).  Xexi,  lliai< 
his  statements  concerning  *  thn  interprrtatiim  of  prophecy  in  our 
country 'and  many  particular  jmssjijies  of  Scripture    '  ai-e  sreat 
misreprcseotatiotis.'     In  how  complete  a  manner  he  cstiblishes 
his  charges  we  may  most  coavcnienily  show  our  readers  by  <iu(rt- 
iiig  one  single  (lossage  which  occurs  under  the  second  of  these 
hi^s: — 

* "  Bishop  Chandler  it  »a%<l  io  havo  thought."  Sorely  tills  phnwo 
is  strango  iu  regard  to  a  book  so  woU  kiiowu  as  CLandlcr's  "  AuBwcrt 
to  CoUiu8  "  I  Why  Nhfiidd  nut  Dr.  WilhuiLB  luivu  talu--u  thu  trouhlo 
to  BBoertain  what  Bishop  Chandlor  does  aay,  before  ho  made  Bo  loose 
«  Btotomont  ? 

'  We  sliall  amply  ploco  Bishop  Chandler's  own  words  in  appontloa 
with  Dr.  M'"illiani»'a  own  report  of  them  : — 

t*  Db.  Wiluaus.  *  niBUor  CitAMOt.ES. 

*  "  Biihop  CLsudlet  »  said  to  luire  '  "  But  not  lo  nut  in  a«iix'ra!s,  let 

lhou;;lit  twflvo  jiassagcs  in  the  Old  the  diKjubiLioiiorparliciiliir  texts  dr- 

Tcstamcnt  dinvlly  Me^hiuic."  tvrmmi*   llie   truth   of  litis  autbor'» 


ftsecrtion.  To  itame  rtrai  nU  wooM 
csrry  inr>  into  too  gwat  Icnjih.  / 
titttU  thrrr/i/rr  gtieet  iwoir  1/  tfte  yrin- 
cJpal  pnmltt«iai^  which  hemp  nruvtd 

to  regam  the  Messias  imuieiliatvly 
and  solely,  in  the  obnui]<i  luni  Ut«n] 
sense  aoconJitig  to  HcholnftUo  nil«e, 
muM  wrtv  at  a  ^tecimca  of  wliat  tlie 
Srnpturcs  liavo  predicted  of  a  Uc»- 
siss  tliat  was  lo  come," 


*  It  ficctnfl  very  clear  that  Dr.  WiUtamg  knows  even  les*  of  Bialiop 
Chandler  than  be  appears  to  know  of  Bisliop  Butlor.  But  before  we 
puBB  OQ  to  Binhop  Bntlcr.  let  tue  ask  those  who  reed  tliia  Essay  what 
faith  they  eaa  put  iu  any  atutcmeuta  it  contiuns  after  reading  thcae 
words  ?  The  aUusion  to  Paley  is  even  worse.  Paloy  was  not  writing 
n  book  on  prophecy,  hut  iu  truating  of  tlie  evideucea  of  Cbristiauihr 
ho  cuutouts  Iiimsclf  with  ciiioting  only  one  prophecy,  sod  saaiglU  hts 
reason  for  limiting  his  quotation  to  that  one,  viz.,  "  as  well  beoatue  I 
think  it  the  eleaiest  and  ttrongeet  of  idl,  as  liecaaso  most  of  the  nMt, 
in  order  that  tboir  valne  might  l>e  represented  with  any  tolotmUo 
degiee  of  fidehty,  rctiuire  a  discossion  mxeuitable  to  the  limits  toA 
nature  of  this  work."    He  then  rofcn  with  approbation  to  Binhup 

Chandler's 


I 


Aids  to  J'ait/t. 


4fi7 


Gbandlor's  dusdi-tationfi,  an<1  askft  tlie  iniidnl  to  try  the  cx]wruiiout 
vlketlior  ho  cuiilil  find  any  othor  iitminout  pursou  to  (hu  hiHtuiy  of] 
whoso  life  80  uiiuij  circuiustaucea  coii  bo  uiadc  to  applj'.  It  is  uot 
tliat  bo  "  ventures  to  qooto  "  only  tbiE  as  if  ho  wcro  tanid  to  zntiAt  ^o 
ij^oeetinn,  liut.  he  aotiinllj  rofora  to  tbc  book  wlioro  tboso  qneatiuns, 
wliich  lio  out  of  liis  uwn  path,  oto  spvcially  troatod.  And  now.  what 
Iwcomca  of  the  list  of  prophecies,  "fine  by  degrees  and  beautifully 
lu«"  as  jctixs  rull  on,  which  Dr.  Williniiis  wiinld  porsnade  hin  roadoi's 
hftTo  been  given  Dp  till  a  grave  divine  "  vcntiartjd  to  quote  "  only  onof. 
The  aobject  ik  rcntly  too  wtcred,  too  solemn,  to  be  treated  in  a  mannc 
like  this.  On  a,uy  subjuct  such  nuKn!i>rutM!ntati(in  would  Imi  vtiry  iIim- 
creditablo,  Imt  in  tronting  of  the  evidence  fur  tlie  truth  of  Ui>ly  Hcrip- 
toro  it  bi^comcs  positively  criminal. 

'  Bat  if  Puley  and  Bishop  Chandler  are  thus  misrcpreedntcd,  what 
ahall  wo  Kay  U*  the  in»iiuiatioii  about  Binhop  Bntlur?  Instead 
Bishop  Butler  ha\'iug  tunieil  oaidc  from  a  future  prospect  of  probablo ' 
iuterprotatiuus,  ho  distinctly  grapples  'witb  those  that  have  been  luado 
on  thiii  priuciplu,  and  (leuics  tbnt  ttiuy  have  any  weight.  So  that  in 
the  rcpn«<.ntation  of  Bishop  Chandler,  Dr.  Paley,  and  Bishop  Butler, 
the  author  of  tliis  Kitsay  may  bo  naid  to  bavo  misroproncntcd  every  ono 
of  them,  an<l  to  hare  iuttirwuvon  bia  miMruprosmitatiuns  togethur  into  a 
statomont  which  it  woidd  Ix)  difficult  to  parallel  fur  its  contempt  of 
truth.' 

We  know  not  when  any  reputable  divine  of  the  (yburrh  of 
{'England  has  received,  still  lets  lias  justified,  sucb  charges  of 
direct  falsi ficatioii  of  tacts  as  are  fixed  here  upon  the  Essayists  in 
straightforward  word& 

Not  different  in  fact,  though  more  gently  framed,  is  Mr. 
Haddnn's  complaint  against  the  Hector  of  Lincoln,  that  he  lias 
l)f?('U  *  teinj)ti'd  '  by  'the  Dalilah  of  a  lunt  historiral  formula  to 
sacrifice  Laud  and  his  .school  to  an  antithesis'  {'  Kcplics,'  i.  !^'.)<)l;. 
a  delicate  suggestion  ol  liistorirnl  inaccviracy,  wliich  is  expanded 
iiiln  five  jKigcs  (if  crushing  pnMjl"  tliat  *  the  Caroline  ilivini-s  wrre 
Sfi  far  from  assuming  either  ctf  the*  siipjH>sitiiHis'  imputed  to  tbeia 
by  the  Ke<:tfir  *that  tket/  luiiussiUitintfiy  ilenif  both.' 

But  of  all  the  replies  no  answer  falls  so  heavily  as  to  the 
chaive  of  want  of  accuracy  in  stating  facts  as  tiio  bloiv  of  Dr. 
C  ^Vordswortl^  (that  of  n  very  hjereticorum  malleus)  on  Pmfessor 
Jowetl.  Having  shown  (*  Keplics,'  p.  427,  iSlc.)  the  (-ntii-e  want 
of  foundation  fur  the  extraordinary  assertions  with  regard  ti>  '  our 
own  Scriptural  literature,*  which  the  Professor  has  *  haxardcd,' 
and  prove<l  'that  his  statements  concerning  the  condition  of 
Biblical  inierpretation  in  Oerm-iny  are  not  mure  acruratp  ;'  after, 
having  dwelt  on  the  strange  ignoiance  or  misteprcM'ntation  (first' 
aotc<l,  we  believe,  in  our  own  pages)*  with  which,  in  his  eager 


'  Quarterly  Review.'  voL.  ax.,  p.  298. 


desire 


Aidt  to  Faith, 


Uc&ilt*  to  prove  ihnt  I'mpbr<:y  Ims  fii!lrit,  be  pretnnds  to  qnotn  as 
a  falsified  pniliriion  of  Amos  thf^  ^  ine«&a^  of  Amnzijili,  the 
priest  of  IJcthrl,  in  which  he  falsely  fttlributcs  to  Atnos  wnrHs 
be  had  not  8|»oI«*n  '  {*  Rrplics,'  p.  435) ;  and  having  sbovn  th«t 
in  all  his  Inhourp*!  catalufjur'  of  Striptiirn  pinirs  the  Professor 
lias  shiiwn  an  iiiacriiincy  ni->ar  akin  to  thin,  Or.  Wordsworth  pm- 
rfvds  to  ('xanitne  Mr.  joivett's  geiiei-al  &tatcmi'nt«  totirhing-  tbo 
great  (^ue^tiou  of  inspiration ;  and  amonj^st  other  similar  mis- 
statements he  fixes  the  fullowinj^  upi>n  liiin : — 

'  The  Refonucrs  ako  aro  cited  by  tho  "EsR&yitt  as  iavonting  Ids  ovii 
opinionit.  "Tbowiml  (infijiiftition),"  hfj  Bays,  "is  bnt  of  jeslardii;, 
not  foond  iii  tho  L-arlior  confossions  of  the  rcfonnod  faith." 

*The  writer  lays  a  beary  tax  on  the  credolit?  of  bis  roadors — "  The 
word  iuspiratiiiQ  is  but  of  y eetcrday  !  "  Hare  vo  not  tliti  worrl  '*  ni- 
gpiraiion  "  in  our  own  aiitliorised  version  of  tbo  Bible,  and  biui  it  not 
Btood  tbc*re  for  two  hnndreJ  and  fifty  yean  ?  Ir  not  tbo  word  ivipira- 
t'um  to  bit  fuiuid  in  that  plaeo  lu  tbo  Omevau  VLTb-inn  of  l!>ru,  uiid  in 
Criuunor'e  vorsinn  of  I/iSS,  and  in  Tyndnle's  version  of  1534  ?  I» 
it  not  ui  old  H8  8t,  CypriHo,  who  wrut^  in  the  third  ccntuy? 
I>oos  bo  uot  MLy  titat  the  Apostles  teacli  ns  what  tboy  Icarut  fr«m 
tlie  pruLirjilM  of  the  Lord,  boiug  full  of  Uio  grace  of  tbo  inijtrm- 
tioH  of  tliuir  Lord  ?  Dues  not  Origcn  say  that  "  tho  Holy  Ubo«t 
iiiiyired  eveij  one  of  the  holy  Propheta  and  ApwOlos  in  tho  Old 
luid  New  TeBtuiuuiils "  ?  ^ay,  ia  nut  tlic  word  used  by  St.  Jastin 
Martyr  in  tbo  second  contuiy,  who  says  that  Iho  IVopheta  taught 
lis  by  DiVi'iifl  iuspiratiouf  Does  not  St.  L^nsens,  tho  nebular  of 
Polyuarp,  the  dieciplo  of  St.  Jolm,  say  that  tiiv  Prophets  rccpiTOl 
Divine  inspiration,  and  docs  not  all  Christian  nntiqnity  tcatffv  that 
tlio  Soriptnroii  are  6f6itfi»aTtM,  given  by  hmjnrttlt^m  of  God?  And  if 
tlio  ancient  Fathers  mtneased  to  tbo  (htHy^  why  Bhunld  wo  didpalo 
aboat  iho  word  f 

'  With  regard  also  to  tho  Beformtr»,  it  is  oqnally  oerlain  that  tliey 
nssorted  the  in^iratinn  of  Scriptiiro  in  the  etrongost  t«nuB  in  tluiir 
jmblic  confessions  of  laith.  Let  the  l:]mayiHt  be  nqoasiod  to  look 
again  at  the  "  uurlier  o'ufcaiuous  of  the  rcfonnod  fiiith.' 

'  Tho  IJfihrmiaii  C(tnlcsBi<»n  of  1.135  thus  beginB  ;  •'  First  of  all,  wo 
all  receive  with  unanimous  conacnt  the  Holy  Bcriptnrcs  which  ai» 
contained  in  the  Bible,  and  were  received  by  our  Cithers  and  accounted 
canonical,  as  inuauTably  tmo  and  nioKt  ecrtain,  and  to  bo  prcfem-d  in 
all  thingH  //*  ail  fthrr  Inuika,  as  snered  books  ought  to  Im  preferred  to 
pro&no,  and  divine  books  to  human ;  and  to  be  Ixilicvcd  with  siuccri^ 
and  simplioi^  of  mind ;  and  that  tbcy  n'cro  delivered  and  inspired  ly 
God  Hiraaelf,  as  Petor  and  Panl  and  otfaerR  do  affirm." ' 

Having  shown  tii.it  with  this  agreed  the  Helvetic  Confession  of 
153i),  the  Gallicanof  1501,  tlie  Scottish  and  the  Bplgir,  and  ha\'iliy 
quoted  the  doctrine  of  the  old  Lutheran  divines,  at  least  from  the 
end  of  tlic  sixteenth  contnry,  in  these  words :— '  Inspiration  is  the 

act 


I 


1 


Aids  to  Faith.  469 

act  by  which  God  communicated  supernaturally  to  the  mind  of 
the  writers  of  Scripture  not  only  the  ideas  of  the  things  which 
they  were  to  write,  but  also  the  conceptions  of  the  words  by 
which  they  were  to  be  expressed.  The  true  author  of  the  Holy 
Scripture  is  God,' — he  sums  up  his  argument  in  these  words : — 

'  Can  any  langm^  bo  more  explicit  ?  And  yet  the  Essayist  suggeats 
that  the  Beformers  laid  little  stress  on  the  doctrine  of  the  in^iration  - 
of  the  Bible.  What  else  is  the  meaning  of  his  language,  "  The  word  " 
inspiration  "  is  but  of  yesterday,  not  u)Qnd  in  the  earlier  Confessions 
of  the  reformed  feith  " — taken  in  connexion  with  his  assertion  that 
Scripture  is  to  be  interpreted  like  "  any  other  book ; "  and  that  "  the 
question  of  inspiration  is  one  with  which  the  interpreter  of  Scripture 
has  nothing  to  do  "  ?  Is  he  ready  to  adopt  the  langat^e  of  those 
confessions  to  which  he  appeals  ?  If  he  is  not,  why  did  he  refer  to 
them  ?  If  he  is,  must  ho  not  retract  almost  idl  that  he  has  said  in 
this  Essay  on  the  subject  of  inspiration  ? ' 

Surely  as  a  matter  of  mere  literary  discredit  this  can  scarcely 
be  exceeded ;  and  yet  there  is  one  element  of  literary  shame 
behind,  which  we  must  say  that  Dr.  Wordsworth  fixes  on  Pro- 
fessor Jowett ;  for  he  shows,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  to  establish  such 
an  unacknowledged  appropriation  of  other  men'k  writings,  that  in 
all  this  the  Professor  does  not  deserve  even  the  poor  praise  of 
orig;inating  error,  but  is  content,  if  he  can  but  sow  the  seeds  of 
sceptical  doubtfulness,  to  stoop  to  be  a  plagiarist  also.  Dr. 
Wordsworth  first  points  out  what  we  ourselves  noted  at  the  outset 
of  this  controversy,  that  it  is  not  the  power,  or  the  originality,  or 
the  clearness  of  these  writers  which  has  given  importance  to  their 
Tolume,  for  that  it  signally  lacks  every  one  of  these  qualities, 
bat  that  it  has  owed  its  notoriety  to  the  one  fact  that  the  authors 
of  its  sceptical  lucubrations  were  not  avowed  unbelievers,  but  (all 
save  one)  clergymen  of  the  Church  of  England.  '  When,'  he 
says,  *  six  persons  dressed  in  academic  hoods,  cassocks,  and  sur- 
plices come  forth  and  preach  scepticism,  they  do  more  mischief 
than  six  hundred  sceptics  clad  in  their  own  clothes.  They  wear 
the  uniform  of  the  Church,  and  are  mingled  in  her  ranks,  and 
fight  against  her,  and  therefore  they  may  well  say, — 

**  Tadimus  immixti  Danaia,  hand  rmmine  nottro^ 
Unltaque  per  cracam  congressi  prtelia  nootem 
Conserimos,  multos  Danaiim  demittimus  Oroo  " ' 

(*  Replies,'  p.  430)';  and  then  he  offers  one  *  general  remark ' 
on  these  allegations  : — 

*  They  are  not  original.  The  allegation  just  qnoted  may  serve  as  a 
specimen.  It  is  only  a  repetition  of  au  objection  which  appeared  ten 
years  ago  in  a  sceptical  book  (which,  because  it  was  not  written  by  a 
clergyman,   foil  still-bom  &om  the  press)   called  *'  The  Creed  of 

Christendom." 


470. 


Jm.ifi  Faith. 


Let  UB  place  the  passtgos  from  tbo  two  roIumcR 


•  "  ESSATS  A!Ct>  llKTlEIW," 

pp.  342,  343. 
*  "  TTke  faiturt   </  u    jmjjAtcy   li 
mver  admitted,  in  fjite  of  Scriptiir* 
and  htstM}-  (J(T.  xxxri.  30 ;  laaiiih 
xxiii. ;  Amos  vu.  10,  17)." 


Cliristontlom."  .  , 
side  by  side : — 

*  "  CllKBD  or  CHStSTEKDOJI,"  p.  55. 
'  "  U  i$  DOW  cIiMirly  bitcvrtAmcil  and 
geiiorally  admitktl  auiouj^sl  critics 
tiiul  fa'vcral  of  the  must  rc'iuarkalilo 
pmojiheciM  wnic  never  UilfiUtxl  at  alt. 
Of  only  very  parcinlly  aiid  kiosely  ful- 
fiUed.  Amixig  LhetM  may  be  ii))eL'iGeil 
llie  dcnniicintiou  olJeraiuoh  (xxii.  18, 
lit ;  X3EXvi.  30)  against  Jcliniakim,  na 
may  Im  sct-n  by  (»ni|inriii^  2  Kinpi 
xxiv.  6;  aiitltJiodi'itiiiiciiitiimof  .tutM 
t^ioal  Jcrobonin  (^vii.  11),  as  niny 
1w  seen  ly  comparms  2  Kinra  xiv. 
23-29."     ^        '       "  "^ 

T  \rH]  not  affirm  thnt  tbo  EKaayiet  copied  from  tlie  Sceptic,  bnt  the  coiu- 
oidence  in  certainly  remarkable.' 

'How,'  asks  Dr.  Wordsworth,  'ore  we  to  account  lor  sach 
blunders  ?' 

•  Our  answer  is,  We  have  sneii  thn.t  tie  sceptical  writer  to  whom  wc 
liarc  referred  quotes  p^HiiscIy  tBe  same  prophecy  of  Amoa,  and  aasertc 
that  it  failod.  Jt  seems  most  probable  that  our  EasMyist  borrowed  his 
<<xuuipIi!B  of  Huppufied  Guliiru  from  that  or  scnao  otbor  sijnilAr  work, 
but  did  voi  atop  to  examine  them,' 

This  is  severe,  but,  we  are  forced  to  odd,  it  is  most  just 
criticism.  It  is  for  the  sake  of  the  highest  truth,  and  twt  for 
what,  if  it  were  not  thus  made  necessary,  wouUl  be  mere  cnieliv, 
that  the  (frcat  literary  jirofcssions  of  our  new  sceptics  arc  tbns 
rudely  plucked  from  them  ;  ami,  inspired  by  this  luvc  of  trulli, 
r)r.  Wordsworth  is,  Jurleed.  without  pity,  both  in  the  exposures 
we  have  iilreiuly  quoted,  and  when  be  resolves  the  dolorous  dirge 
of  the  first  six  pafjes  of  the  I'rofessor's  Kssa}*  into  *  the  eSemi- 
nate  elhisions  of  a  mnudliii  sentimentalism '  ('Replies,'  p.  411), 
and  drily  hints  at  thp  depth  of  his  Gcrmnn  enidition  in  the 
words  *  f.itrfmtnn,  as  the  Kssnylst  calls  him,  p.  352,  and  again 
Meier,  as  our  author  writes  his  name,  p.  33!) '  (p.  414), 

But  Dr.  >Vordsworth  is  not  content  with  the  annihilatian  of 
bis  opponent.  Thoiiffh  he  refers  to  another  of  his  publications* 
for 'I'stahlishing  tlic  truth,'  his  pn*scnt  Essay  is  full  of  ralaable 
suge^'stions  on  this  most  important  i>oint:  and  for  tliear  and  for 
hit  proofs  that  the  raLni  sagacitv  of  Lonl  B.'icon  and  the  irajKirtiol 
majesty  of  Bishop  Sutler's  philosophy  had  preceded  him  In  some 


*  *  I^clurev  on  \.\ie  loepiraiioii  ood  on  Uie  latcrpretaticm  of  ibe  Bible, dditcr*d 
at  WiwtmuuttT  Abbi^.'    Jtivingtou^  IBfil. 


I 

of 


Aid$  to  Faith. 


471 


of  thoin,  wc  gladly  refer  our  rcailt-rs  to  bis  pages,  Tlit^re  is 
aniitlier  Essay  in  this  volume,  on  which  wc  hejirtily  wish  that  our 
liiniti  would  allow  ut  to  dwell  as  iu  carefulDess,  its  breadth,  and 
its  power  deserve.  It  is  that  in  wliich,  not  as  a  cnuiiter-essay 
to  Mr.  Wilson's,  hut  railitT  as  a  thorough  discussion  of  (h(*  \rnra\. 
subject,  Dr.  Irons  exainiues  the  whole  <^|uesti(iM  of  a  National 
Church.  But  for  this  we  must  refer  our  readers  to  the  volume 
tl&elf,  assuring  them  that  they  will  lind  that  Essay  welt  worthy  oi 
&c  most  careful  study. 

HcR-  we  are  compelIc<I,  by  lack  of  room  for  dwelling  further 
oa  it,  to  quit  what  we  may  term  the  Literature  of  tliis  coDtrurcry)*, 
4ir  tliere  arc  other  works  which  wc  would  gladiv  examine,  par- 
ticularly Lord  Lindsay's  new  volume,  in  which  he  traces  the 
retntfrressive  character  of  Scepticism,  and  contrasts  it  with  the 
stable  and  progressive  character  of  the  Church  of  Enfrland, 
with  all  his  usual  depth  of  thought;  the  Rev.  A.  T.  Kusseirs 
*  letter  to  the  Hislinp  of  Oxfotfl,'  a  vigorous  and  original  volume; 
Mr.  Burgon's  essay  'On  Inspiration;*  and  'Seven  Answers  to 
the  Sevi^n  J'lssavists,'  by  the  14ov.  T.  N.  CJriffin,  to  which  an 
Introduction  has  been  contributed  by  an  ex-Lord  CTiancellor  of 
Ireland,  the  llight  Honourable  Joseph  Napier.  A  vcrv  few 
words  of  his,  indeed,  we  must  quote,  because  they  add  to 
J)r.  Wordsworth's  heavy  charges  against  the  ?'ssayists,  tlie 
solemn  cuniirmation  of  one  not  himself  a  divine,  but  whdsc 
■aturally  great  faculties  hare  been  trained  throughout  the  pro- 
fessional career  which  seated  him  on  one  of  the  highest  emi- 
oences  of  the  law  to  the  calm  and  dispassionate  weighing  of  evi- 
dence,     'riius  he  speaks: — 

•  It  is  well  worthy  nf  observation  that,  thronghont  tho  Tolnmo  of 
**  EsBajs  and  Ihjviuws,'*  there  is  not  a  new  objection  to  be  found ; 
ita  sceptieiBin  is  socoml-haud,  if  not  stale.  ....  To  roprodueo  in  an 
Englifth  dre««  the  axhautrtcd  iM'phiHtry  of  Oontioontal  acentics,  and 
bring  out  in  a  modem  fitylo  tlie  old  exploiled  fallacieA  of  our  own 
uativo  Doistti,  to  ignore  thu  detttotiou  of  the  sophistry,  and  to  disparago 
Uu)  autliority  of  tlioso  whu  have  auBwerod  and  cipoecd  tho  fallacies — 
tiicflo  are  porrertcd  efforts,  of  which  wo  may  £ay  "an  onoiny  hath 
done  this." ' 

This  charge  of  repeating  as  original,  and  without  a  hint  of  their 
staleness,  the  already  refuted  objections  of  others  which  we  .at 
first  hnmglit  against  these  writi-ra,  is  strikingly  confirmed  by 
every  aulisequent  esaminaflon  we  have  made  as  tn  flu-  wiurres  of 
tlieir  in spi rations.     Dr.  (iuulbum  has  iilFe«di  ^*d  that  Dr. 

Temple's   slight  and   somewb  .1  lory    Essay 

cannot  claim  tho  mcri*  minted   out 

more  than  one  pau  *    s  most 

vicious 


suspicious  niul  fatherly  resemblance  to  tlie  colostai  nian  of  ilit 
Hctid  Master  of  Rugbv.  We  need  not  tell  those  of  our  rtnden 
who  are  acquaiutetl  with  German  literature  that  GotthoM 
Kphmim  Leasing,  who  was  born  in  172\\  was  one  of  those  early 
Deists  who,  bv  the  doubts  they  sowed,  prepared  Germwiy  for  all 
the  lonfT  suflcrin^  whicli  she  hns  since  emhirf^d. 

Michelet  ('  Hist,  de  Fmnre,*  ii.  380,  e.1.  I'aris,  1852)  says,  as 
to  the  doctrine  of  ccrtAin  pcupin  in  the  tliirtrmth  ceutary,  that 
Uie  reign  of  God  the  Son  nras  at  an  end,  and  the  reifrn  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  was  at  hand — '  C'est  sous  quelque, rapport  I'Jdee  de 
i-essinff  sur  I'educntioD  du  genre  hnmaln.'  lA'ftsiug  himaelfl 
nlliidr!>  to  those  thirteentti-eentury  pcoph!.  In  his  pages  we  find' 
lIiH  fi>no\v!n^ : — 

'That  which  education  is  to  the  individTial,  rercUtton  is  to  th« 
xttoo.  Education  ia  ruvehition  ooming  to  tlie  individual  taan  :  audi 
revelation  is  odaeation  which   tma    uumo  and  is  yot   coming   lu  thai 

humaa  raoo Education  gtvos  to  msm  nothing  which  no  might] 

not  etliioo  f>tU  of  hinuuilf ;  it  givefl  liim  thut  which  he  might  educe  out] 
of  himtHilf,   oidy  quicker  and  moru  easily.     In  the  eame  way,  too^J 
rovoliitiun  givott  nothing  to  the  liuioan  Kpecioti  which  the  human  reason, 
if  hiA  to  itsolf^  might  not  attain ;  it  only  lias  given,  and  fttill  gives  to  i 
it  the  most  importaut  of  these  things  earlier'  *  [than  man  cuuld  of 
hiiiiaclf  reach  tbem].^ 

We  Icarc  our  readers  to  conrhule  for  themselves  how  far  thi»- 
diqios^s  of  Dr.  Temple's  claim  to  nriginaiity.  and  what  is  the 
true  sequence  of  the  theory"  which  pervades  his  Essay. 

But  whilst  wp  ndmit  that  Dr.  Goullmrn  seems  to  have  tmc 
Bumi!    (if   Dr.   Tcnijih-'s    ICssav  to    the    pushes  of   Lessin^,    we 
inclined  ourselves  to  IjcUeve  thnt  as  a  wliulo  it  was  copieil   more 
immediately  from  the  writings  uf  Hegel.     Tlie  whole  idea  ofj 
the  Essay  seems  to  us  to  be  tx>rrowcd  from  his  *  Philosophy 
Historv  ;*   whilst  in  many  particular  jMuuages  tlic  ideiititv  "f  ex-' 
pression  is  so  great  that  Dr.   Temple   may  almost  be  tliunght  loj 
have  tniiitiiated   into   Knglisli,   %vith    due  ix^rd   fur   our    lack  01 
metaphysical  genius,  the  enlarged  speculations  of  the  Germaa 
philosoplicr.     VV'c  will  ask  our  readers  to  cast  their  eyes  from 
one  to  the  other  of  the  passages  which  we  print  side  by  side,  ami] 
decide   for   themselves  if  the  simUarity  between  them  can  hy 


•  'Repliw,'  pp.  48,  4B,  17, 

t  '  Vii:  ErxUOiatkg  dos  H«aKheii«cschle«hU.'  oocapriiig  pp.  3U8-aw  in  ni 
of  Lvaiing*»  Works,  Lachmiiiiu'i  ctl.,  |k-rlin,  1931*.     This  work  WM  |«Uultcdl, 
LiFning  as  '  •.-<liktl '  li}'  liitn.  nml  it  has  l<ci.'ii  c]iitf  licmcd  wfaiMher  be  wulbesut^tf] 
it  is  now,  howoviT.  gi^Jicrally  adiniMvt)   ibwt  iIk  work  is  L««in^i  own. 
qoettioii  u  ducuu«d  iu  Q«rviuu»,    'Hwtory  uf  <>vfniilu  Lttviaturv;'  luiA'i 
remarks  on  it  will  be-  fmtiid  in  i)ii;  '  l>ifiiuaunir«<lcS  Suicduv*  FttUMO|ilit(j 
edited  hy  Frank,  nadfrr  the  article  *  Ijttiittg.' 


Aids  to  Faith. 


473 


any  laws  of  probability  be  held  to  be  purely  accidental.  We 
quote  from  Mr.  Sibrec's  translation  of  Hegel's  work  (1861),  first 
published  by  Mr.  Bohn  in  1857  : — 

The  Education  or  the  Woeld.  The  Philobophy  of  Histoby. 

*  In  a  world  of  mere  phenomena ...  '  The  changes  that  take  place  in 
it  is  possible  to  imagine  the  course  of  Nature — ^how  infinitely  manifold  so- 
a  kug  period  bringing  all  things  at  the    ever  they  may  be — exhibit  only  a  per- 


end  of  it  into  exactly  the  some  rela- 
tions aa  they  occnpicd  at  the  begin- 
ning. "We  snonld  tnen  obviously  have 
a  Bucoession  of  cycles  rigidly  similar 
to  one  another,  both  in  events  and  in 
the  sequence  of  them.  The  universe 
wonld  eternally  repeat  the  same 
changes  in  a  fised  order  of  I'ecurrenco. 
....  Snch  a  auppodtion  is  possible 
to  the  logical  understanding :  it  is  not 
poHible  to  the  Spirit.' — pp.  1,  2. 

'To  the  Spirit  all  things  that  exist 
mtut  have  a  purpose ;  and  nothing 
cao  pass  away  tiU  that  purpose  be  ful- 
fiUed.  The  lapse  of  time  is  no  excep- 
tioD  to  this  demand.  Eacb  moment 
of  time,  as  it  passes,  is  taken  up  in  the 
shape  of  permanent  results  into  the 
time  that  follows,  and  only  perishes  by 
bdng  converted  into  something  more 
mb^anttal  than  itself.' — p.  2. 


pctnally  self-repeating  cycle.  .  .  .  Only 
in  those  changes  which  take  place  in 
the  r^ion  of  Spirit  does  anything  new 
arise.' — j).  66. 

'  We  are  thus  concerned  exclusively 
■with  the  idea  of  Spirit.  .  . .  Nothing 
in  the  jiast  is  lost  for  it ;  for  the  Idi-a 
is  ever  present ;  Spirit  is  immortal  ; 
with  it  there  is  no  past,  no  future,  but 
on  essential  fww.  This  necessarily 
implies  that  the  present  form  of  Spirit 
comprehends  within  it  all  earlier  steps. 
.  .  .  iTio  life  of  the  ever-present  Spirit 
is  a  circle  of  progressive  embodiments. 
.  . .  Tlie  grades  which  Spirit  seems  to 
have  left  behind  it,  it  still  possesses  in 
the  depths  of  its  present.' — p.  82. 

*  C'hange.  while  it  imports  dissolu- 
tion, involves  at  the  same  time  the 
rise  of  a  new  life.  .  .  .  Spirit,  con- 
suming the  envelope  of  its  existence, 
comes  forth  exalted,  glorified,  a  jmrer 
spirit.  .  .  ,  Each  successive  phase  be- 
comes in  its  turn  a  material,  workins; 
on  which  it  exalts  itself  to  a  new 
grade.' — p.  76. 

We  must  exhibit  to  our  readers  one  other  of  these  parallels, 
which  seem  to  us  to  prove  a  remarkable  though  unacknowledged 
borrowing  from  the  German  speculator  : 


*  We  may,  then,  rightly  speak  of  a 
childhood,  a  youth,  and  a  manhood  of 
the  world  (p.  4).  In  childhood  we 
are  aibject  to  positive  rules  which 
....  we  are  bound  implicitly  to 
obey.  In  youth  we  are.  subject  to  the 
influence  of  example,  and  aooa  break 
loose  from  nil  rules  unless  ....  In 
manhood  we  are  comparatively  free 
from  external  restraint,  &c.  (p.  6). 
Precisely  analogous  to  all  this  is  the 
hudory  of  the  ^ucation  of  the  early 
woiid  (p.  6).  When  the  seed  of  the 
Gtnpel  was  first  sown,  the  field  which 
bad  been  prepared  to  receive  it  may 
be  divided  into  four  chief  divisions : 
Borne,  Greece,  Asia,  and  Judca.    Each 

of 


'  This  is  the  childhood  of  history 
....  &c.  Continuing  the  compari- 
son with  the  ages  of  the  individual 
man,  this  would  he  the  boyhood  of 
history ;  no  longer  manifesting  the 
repose  and  trustingncss  of  the  child, 
but  IxJisterous  and  turbulent.  Tho 
Greek  world  may,  then,  bo  comiored 

with  the  period  of  adolescence 

Here  is  tho  kioedom  of  beautiful  free- 
dom^ ....  Ine  third  phase  ...  is 
the  Iloman  state,  the  severe  labours 
of  the  manhood  of  history. 

<  llie  fiist  phase  ....  is  the  East 
...  It  is  the  childhood  of  history 
.  .  .  We  find  the  wild  hordes  breaking 
oat  .  .  .  falling   upon  the  countries 

but 


A7i 


Aidi  ta  Faith. 


orU)ewfX)iitiiliut«l8anMitUia';,&c([ but  in  nil  cases  rnuUlcacIy  .. 

10).     Rome  contribute*!  ber  admira-     Ac.     On  tlw  on«  sWe  we  sjw  tlunititHi. 
blc  spirit  of  order  nud  or^nizalion     iiCability  .  ,  .  the    txaxvt  .  .  .  «itb^ 
(tViW.).    To  GrriH'o  wiw  eiitrnjtrtl  Ihn     out  undergoing  any  c)iani;fl  .  ,  ,  nr 
onlti^tttion  of  the  rmsuti  and  the  tuto     coustautlf    ctuui)fjiig    their    ffMlk 
....  Uer  bi^ht^t  idt.-»  u-fts  not  Itolt-     tovanl  ctcb  Olbcr.*— pp.  11UU3. 
DCS*.  03  witb  the  lUbrtwa,  nor  law. 
Its  wilb  the  Kontans  ;  but  beauty,  &c. 

t47).     TliL'  di»:ipline  of  Asia  vriu 
Dpver-ciuliii'^  HTiccessioD  of  coD- 

qucrinij    dynuiMii C^cUw  of 

cbangiB  wtTOtucceaeivpIy  (MSHiD*;  orer 
bar,  aiid  yet  at  the  ead  of  every  cycle 
ahc  stool  where  she  luid  Blood  lieforD.' 
—p.  18. 

TIhtp  is  one  ntlicr  imssii^!  in  another  work  of  Hcgcl\  lieti 
M-liicli  ami  Dr.  'I'eniiile's  1-^ssav  thi!  siiiiilaiity  Is  oquaUv  striking. 
According  tn  Dr.  Temple  there  were  four  gr^at  instructon 
mankind  in  tbe  carlv  stage  of  education,  xix. — Judira,  'wbichj 
tiugLt    Monotheism   and    chastity ;    Greece,    science   and   art ; 
llnnic^  order  and   or^nization ;    Asiu,   which    eontrihuted  the] 
tiiyslerious  element  in  religion,  disciplining  the  spiritual  iinogi*] 
nation.      And  so,  according  to  Hegel,  'The  Jewish   religion  U 
tbat  of  sublimity;  the  religion  of  Greece  is  that  of  beauty;  th< 
religion  of  Home  that  of  organization  or  purpose  (as  wc  msr! 
perluips  translate  the  German  Ztccc/tntmsit/keit) ;  whilst  Asia  i*] 
the  seat  of  Panthei&m  in  its  various  forms  (in  China,   in  India,  [ 
in  Thibet);  tlin  general  principle  of  which  he  regards  as  being 
an  elevation  of  the  Kpirit  from  the  tinite  and  contingent  cue 
ccived  as  a  mere  negation,  to  the  consciousness  of  absolute  powc 
as  the  one  universal  existence.'* 

W'v  can  hardly  nmceive  jt  jM>ssibIe  that  these  strict  rea 
hlancesan.'  the  re»ultof  mere  chants.     We  cannot  liutbelicre  ibi 
*  The  Philosophy  of  i-Hstorr,'  in  conjunction  perhaps  with 
same  author's  lectures  on  the  *  Philosophy  of  Religion,'  was,  it 
truth,  tlir  pnrrtit  of  '  Tlin  Fduration  of  the  World.'      Nor,  if  ul 
an-  light  iii  this,  is  it  worth   notice  only  liccause  it   is  nnot 
instance  of  the  'staleiicss*  of  these   E&sa>-s,  and  a  new  prtxjf 
the  degree  to  which  they  are  obnoxious,  as  literar}*  pro<)ucti( 
to  the  grave  charge  of  abounding  in  plagiarisms.      J'hcrc  is  Tf 
anoUier  deduction  to  be  drawn  from   this,  orer  and   alxive 
literary  reproach  which  attaches  to  iL      It  is  highly  indicative 
tlie  real  spirit  of  tlie  Essay.      For  it  is  the  characteristic  of  ll 
wb»Ic-  H(.-gcUan  theory,  tliat  whilst  its  jiroj^mnder  contiauallj 
wrote  as  being  himself  a  believer  in  the  truth  of  the  CI 


*  Hrgcl'l  Works,  vol.  xi.,  p.  308.    Ed.  1S40. 


Rcvelatioo, 


Aids  to  I^aith. 


475 


iicvclfltlon,  vet  tlir  inevitable  conrlusinn  of  liis  system,  as  it 
tievelojicd  itM-lf  iu  its  roinplcU^nrss,  wns  to  iisrillatr  1iftwcf-n  two 
results,  wjually  inconsistent  with  all  Rcvolatimi ;  eitlicr,  that  is, 
to  resolve  with  the  Pantheist  all  created  life  into  a  mere  phenu- 
inenal  mode  of  a  higher  and  more  nbsnlule  existence,  and  so  to 
destroy,  in  fact,  personality  in  God,  and  persimiility  and  respon- 
sibility in  man  ;  or  to  cut  the  knot  of  difficulty  by  denying 
nltogetlier  with  the  Atheist  the  existence  of  God.  We  doubt 
not  that  Dr.  Temple  would  recoU  as  honestly  as  we  should  from 
either  of  these  alternatives  ;  but  we  believe  that,  with  the  seeds 
of  Hegelian  teachiniE:,  the  tendency  to  one  or  other  of  these 
cnonstrous  conrlusinns  does  really  penjule  what  has  sometimes 
been  considered  as  his  comparatively  harmless  contnbutiuu  ti> 
this  rolume. 

Betides  the  new  volnmes  which  we  hare  passed  ond«r  review, 
we  must  also  note  with  pleasun?  that  the  controversy  has  occa- 
sioned the  rrpriiilin(»  of  the  late  IJr.  Mill's  *  Oliservatinns  on 
Pantheistic  Principles,"  a  work  worthy  of  the  gnsat  name  of  its 
writer,  and  which  by  anticipation  supplietl  well-nijrh  all  the 
materials  nccessar.-  for  ciposinp  the  recent  attempts  of  our  new 
iceptics  to  shake  the  ancient  faith  uf  Cliristendom. 

Wc  enter  now  upon  a  different  branch  of  onr  subject.  When 
we  first  drew  attention  to  this  subject  wc  expressed  nn  <ipiniim 
accordant  with  that  which  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  has  statiil 
in  bis  preface  to  the  '  Replies  to  the  lissayisu.'  '  Two 
distinct  courses,'  he  says,  *  seem  to  be  required  ....  the  distinct, 
solemn,  and,  if  need  be,  severe  decision  of  authority,  that  asser- 
tions such  as  these  cannot  be  put  forward  as  possibly  true  .... 
by  honest  men  who  are  bound  by  voluntary  obligations  to  teach 

the  Christian  revelation  as  the  truth  of  God Secondly,  wc 

need  the  calm,  comprehensive,  and  scholarlikc  declaration  ai 
positive  truth  npon  all  the  matters  in  dispute,  by  which  the 
shallowness^  and  tlie  passion,  and  the  ip-nomncc  of  the  new 
svstcm  of  unl)elicf  may  be  thoroughly  displayed.*  • 

We  have  traced  the  discharge  by  scvenil  writers  of  the  second 
of  these  duties.  W^e  now  pass  on  to  examine  wliat  has  Ijcen 
ilone  by  authority  to  free  the  Church  of  Kngland  from  any  rom- 
pHcitv  in  the  stmnge  and  erroneous  doctrii»es  of  tlic  KssayisL&. 
Constituted  as  tliat  body  is,  it  is  impossible  that  there  should^ 
under  any  circumstances,  l>e  within  its  jHile  tlie  sharp,  sudden 
acting  of  authoritv  which  may  be  found  in  other  communions  or 
in  other  lamls.  All  our  traditions  are  in  favour  of  liberty  ;  all  art*- 
hostile  lo  the  authoritative  repression  of  iade|>rndent  action,  and 


*  rieliw«  to  '  KepU«s,'  &c,  pp.  la.  sad  x. 


still 


476 


Aids  to  Faith. 


still  more,  wn  (hank  God,  of  iadependent  thooght.  Even  when  we 
wcrp  n  part  of  tba.t  vast  oi^nnic  body,  half  ■piritual,  half  ciril,  of 
which  Ihc  Pnpacv  was  the  head,  the  action  of  niitbority  in  all 
maltors  spiritnni  was  feebirr  and  morf  tardv  in  this  land  than  in 
anv  other.  Mnnv  Tiere  the  concessions  wrung  by  oor  spirit  of 
natioiiRl  iiitlenendenre  from  the  distant  Popedom ;  many  ihe 
acts  of  rebellious  freedom  at  which  that  cmftj  power  was  com- 
pelled to  wink,  in  order  to  preserve  anj  dominion  over  the  self- 
willed  islanders.  Onr  scpamtion  from  Rome,  and  the  full 
establishment  of  the  Apiwtnlic  frrpelnm  of  our  own  Ouirch  fnim 
the  usurpations  of  thi?  see  whirh  had  tntriRfonned  a  lawful 
Primacy  into  a  lawless  tyrannv,  were  a<:c(m]]ianic<l — an  evil 
waiting  as  the  inseparable  shadow  upon  our  many  blessine*^ 
with  a  diminution  of  lawful  authoritv  in  matters  spiritual.  Thi* 
was  probably  inevitable.  The  isolated  spiritunlitT  could  not 
balance  pmpcrlv  tlie  ^^rcat  and  nei{^hbi>uriiig  weight  of  the  tmn- 
pnral  ptwer.  llie  rvil  was  increased  by  the  iinAToidabh*  inixtofe 
of  i[uestiuns  of  pri>)>ert>'  with  qnestJons  directiv  spiritual  throng 
our  system  of  en<lowmcnts ;  an<l  the  ever  jn'owinp"  jealoiuj  of 
the  law  of  England  as  to  freehold  rights  raised  the  dangiT  to  its 
highest  point.  Soon  after  the  Reformation  attempts  were  mad^ 
to  remeily  the  evil.  The  abortive  *  Reformatio  Legum  '  afaodB  as 
an  abiding  record  of  such  an  efTort.  All  such  endeavonn  as 
these  were  utterly  swept  away  by  the  great  flood  of  Puritan 
violence  which  soon  afterwards  broke  forth  npon  the  land.  Nor 
was  the  period  of  the  Restoration  in  any  wav  favourible  IVjt  the 
development  of  a  weli-considered  and  impartial  strengtlieninff  of 
the  spiritual  authority  of  the  Church.  It  was  pre-enuDently  a 
time  of  reaction ;  and  a  reactionary  rime,  fall  as  it  necessarily  is 
of  spasms  and  violence,  is  most  unfavourable  tor  the  fonnatiou 
of  tlitHie  Joint:;  and  liamls  of  reasonable  restraint  which  form  lly! 
truest  protection  of  lilierty  itself.  There  was  the  irritation  bicd 
by  the  action  of  that  spiritual  revolution  on  the  )M»sessioa  of 
endownu-nis.  There  was  first  the  remembrance  of  the  nuuty 
grievous  wrongs  which  had  been  wrought  in  the  ejection  frtnn 
their  benefices  of  the  beat  of  the  ch-rgy,  under  tJie  falsest  pR>A» 
siona,  in  order  to  instal  into  them  the  ignornnt  and  fanatical  adi^ 
seekers  of  the  Puritan  predominance;  and  then  tli«*rr  was  next 
the  natural  but  unhappv  action  of  the  spirit  of  reti'ibutioo  mnniDj^ 
into  revenge,  righting  freely  tliese  past  wrongs  by  new  ejectiDU. 
All  this  actetl  mischievously  upon  the  mind  of  the  Church,  ant 
ma<!p  the  tpiestion  of  the  restoration  of  her  civil  rights,  for  whtcli 
she  had  mainly  to  lean  on  the  civil  arm,  rather  than  the  main- 
tenonce  of  her  doctrinal  purity^  the  great  object  upini  which  hxi 
eye  was  fixe<l. 

This 


I 


i 


^Jidt  to  FaHh. 


Tljis  was  not  all.  TIic  tcmiier  uf  the  whole  nntiim  waa  one  of 
Teaclion  in  favour  of  aulhorilv.  Churckincn  nltu  liatl  \teen 
faithful  to  the  Crown  when  it  was  tranipletl  in  the  dirt  uhcIlt  tlie 
feet  of  the  Independents,  would  natur&lly  suffer  in  the  bighest 
dcgr*y  from  the  general  epidemic ;  and  the  very  loyaltr  of  the 
Chnrch  IihI  tn  its  unduly  i>zaltin^  the  Throne,  for  which  it  bud 
so  severely  siidpreil.  The  Revnliition  of  1688^  wbich  in  so  many 
dirmtions  strent<;thened  ami  entar^d  our  liberties,  tended  only, 
from  all  its  coraplieatcd  operations,  to  weaken  the  free  action  of 
the  Church  as  the  spirituality  of  the  reolm.  Nor,  u  we  may 
fiml  ut-easion  to  show  herenfter,  has  recent  legislation  had  any 
otlu-r  lendenev. 

No  reasonnhle  man  can  shut  his  pyes  to  the  iMMiefits  which  have 
resulted  from  the  struggle*  which  make  up  this  Ions'  bistory. 
The  character  of  the  Church  of  England  resembles  greatly  that 
of  men  who,  with  wills  and  understandings  natumlly  strong, 
have  been  brought  up  under  nu  very  fixed  or  definite  rules  uf 
education,  and  have  devclo|>cd  in  that  comjiaralive  frciMhtm  a 
firmucss,  an  independence,  and  an  individuality,  with  wbich  more 
oMTect  rules  of  early  training  must  have  interfered.  I'"or  there  is 
in  her  a  marvellously  f^-nacious  grasp  of  fundamental  truth ;  nn 
intelligent  consent,  amidst  diflereuce  on  details  of  a  multitude  of 
tninds,  as  to  the  leading  articles  of  tbe  faith  ;  an  earnest,  ctmimun- 
acnse  religiousness,  wbich  could  probably  have  been  bred  nu 
otherwise  than  under  the  full  ami  free  action  of  her  existing  con- 
stitution. But  it  is  an  inevitable  correlative  of  these  advantages 
that  the  action  of  authority  within  her  body,  when  at  last  it  is 
called  foFf  should  be  slow,  sporadic,  and  somewhat  feeble.  We 
must  not,  ttierefore,  expect,  perhaps  we  need  not  very  passion* 
atcly  desire,  that  the  rise  of  any  error  within  her  comnmnion 
should  be  followed  at  once  by  tbc  meeting  of  the  authoritative 
vynod,  the  thunder  of  an  anathema,  and  the  lightning  shaft  of  sura- 
raary  excommunicntion.  All  tiits  is  Illustrated  in  the  history  of 
the  '  Kssavs  and  lieviews  '  ctmtroversy. 

When,  shortly  after  the  publication  of  our  former  article,  public 
attention  had  been  called  t»  the  subject,  and  the  minds  of  thinking 
men  thortmghly  mused  to  its  impc^nlancp,  tlie  (irst  action  nf 
authfirity  was  the  apjM^nranco  of  a  diieument,  bmring  first  or  last,  we 
Iwlievp,  die  signature  of  everv  bishop  of  the  United  C'huich,  and 
condemliing  manv  of  the  propositions  of  the  book  as  iuconsistent 
with  an  honest  8ubtKTi]>tion  to  ber  formularies.  This  was,  in  our 
Judgment,  a  mode  of  action  highly  cliaracleristic  of  tltr  temper 
■nd  spirit  which  we  have  attributed  to  the  K&tahlished  CJhurelt. 
Somewhat  itifurmal  In  its  conception  and  in  its  putting  forth — 
struggling,  we  might  almost  say,  into  being,  against  the  onli- 

nary 


478 


AiA  10  Faith. 


nary  laws  nf  ecclesiastical  parturition,  it  yet  mnniA^stcd  at  oner 
the  formal  slavery  and  the  real  freedom  of  the  ecclesiastical 
element  in  niir  minf^lrd  constitution ;  our  essential  agreement,  iu 
spite  of  minor  diflcrcnces,  on  all  matters  conceniing  the  funda- 
mentals of  the  faith  ;  and  our  common-sense  view  of  the  foolisli 
Attempt  to  substitute  the  dreamv  nfliuln&itii's  of  usoi|-uj>  ficnnaa 
sperulntion  for  a  simpli-  adhennice  to  the  language  of  the  formu- 
laries, the  letter  of  the  Creeds,  aud  the  plain  teaching  of  the 
Bible. 

The  cfTet't  of  the  publication  of  this  document  was  aroat  and 
timely.      The  mind  i>f  the  Clmrch  was  only,  jicrhajw,  too  much 
quieted  by  it,  and  disiKiscd  to  be  nremutuiely  euutciiieii  with  what 
had   been  done   as  sufhcicnt    for  the   occasion.     Amongst  the 
partizans  of  the  Essayists  it  produced  a  rast  amount  of  indignation. 
13y  one  ul  the  wannest  and  most  eloquent  amongst  tliem   it  was 
described  as  '  a  document  which,  whilst  Cambridge  lay  in  Iter 
usual  attitude  of  magnificent    repose,  about  a   month   after  the 
appearance  of  tlie  "(Quarterly,"  startled  tlie  world  ;  one  without 
precedent,  as  wc  trust  it  may  be  without  imitation,  iti  the  English 
Church,'  *      It    was    '  the    counteqmrt    of  the   Papal    excommn- 
nication   Irvrlled   against   1la.li.in    fi-eedom,    fillet;!   with   menncrt 
borrowed   from   tlic  ancient  days  of  per-secution,'  &c.      All  this 
irritation  was   but  a  testimony  to  the  real  weight  of  the  con- 
demnation, and  not  less  so  was  the  curious  attempt  of  the  same 
writer  to  lessen  its  authority  by  representing  the  venerable  Bishop 
of  Exeter  as  not  having  joinetl  with  his  brethren  in  their  censure. 
There  is  an  audacitv  which   reaches  almost  to  plea.<ianlry  in  the 
attempt  of  the  Ueviewcr  to   claim  tlie  present  Bishop  of   Exeter 
as  one  who,  when  the  defence  of  the  foundations  of  our  belief] 
was  the  question  at  issue,  could  conceive  it  to  be  the  course  of 
faithfuliinss  to  (be  dutv  of  his   great  station  to  'protect,*  in  the 
Reviewer's  sense  of  llic  wurds,  '  the  cause  of  frei-  and  fair  dis- 
cussion from  the  indiscnriiinace  violence  of  popular  agitators.'! 
This  is  really  very  much  like  expecting  the  great  Athaoasius  to 
have  deemed  it  his  special  vocation  to  protect  the  heretic  Ariusi 
from  the  agitadon  and  violcnci!  of  the  Catholic  Chturch.     Buc4 
bold  as  this  attempt  would  have  been  in  any  one  who  knew  onhr-j 
the  principles   and   character  of  the  Right  ReV.  [^relate,  whus«q 
name   he  wished  tlius  to   coax   off  the   bond,    perhaps   it   might ! 
warrant  even  sfjme  stronger  epithet  when  it  is  seen  upon  what! 
the  suggestion  was  really   founded.     On  the  2Ist  of  rebruary,] 
1861,  Dr.  Temple  wrote,  under  a  misconception,  a  letter,  which' 
he  recalled  the  day  following,  to  the  Bishop  of  Exeter,  inquiring' 


•  •  Rrliabargh  Reric*,'  No.  SM,  p,  4«». 


t  IbUI, 


Aids  to  Faith. 


479 


with  what  funilaineQtal  dortiines  of  our  Church  the  Bishop  hail 
Ucclart-d  his  Ks^^ay  to  be  at  variance.  The  hasty  recall  of  the 
inquiry  did  not  »ave  the  inqutrcr  from  an  answer,  from  which  wc 
mast  make  one  or  two  highly  characteristic  extracts : — 

*The  book,' c(>iitiniK!8  tile  Bishop.  '  profeews  to  ho  a  joint  contri- 
bntion  fur  cSecting  s,  commou  object,  Tiz^  "  to  illastrate  the  aJvantagQ 
AuriTable  tn  the  cause  of  religioos  anil  mural  truth  from  a  frcu  huudljug 
in  a  iM^cumiug  spirit  of  HubjoctH  pcciihtLrly  liable  to  stiScr  by  the 
repetition  of  conventional  laognagc,  and  tzom  traditional  uethods  of 
Ueutoiont." 

*  I  avow  iity  full  oonvictlou  tliiit  tluH  Iiah  a  nianifuHt  ami  direct  re- 
ferenoe  to  our  Creeds,  o«r  Articles,  our  Book  of  Cominon  Prayer,  and 
4dnu&isti'ation  of  tho  Saeranienta. 

'  I  also  avow  thu.t  I  hold  every  one  of  tho  seven  porBons  actuig 
together  for  uuch  an  ubjcct  ti>  be  alike  reaprmsible  for  the  scvernl  acta 
of  ovary  individual  antong  them  in  exoouting  their  avnn'G<l  conunou 
purpose.  Thiti  judgment  uii^t,  indeed,  have  been  qualiliod  in  favour 
vf  any  one  of  tJiu  buvcu  ^vtio,  ou  Hueiug  tho  cxtnivugimtly  viuious 
mumer  in  which  some  of  hiB  asftociatcK  had  performed  their  port,  had 
openly  dut-larod  hiK  dtBguid  and  alihcirrenoe  of  euch  un£aithfaliic8B, 
and  hiul  withdrawn  his  name  from  the  uinuber. 

*  Yon  have  not  done  this,  althouj^h  many  months  have  elapeed  since 
this  momi  puimm  has  been  publicly  vnudud  under  your  anthnrity,  and 
since  the  indignation  of  faithful  Christians  has  openly  stigmatiwd  tho 
work  as  of  the  most  manifestly  pernicious  tendency ;  above  all,  an  a 
wtirk  wUli;li  all  who  nro  iiitnistiMl,  as  you  are,  with  the  uiouientoufl 
ra)[)ontiihility  of  educating  tho  ynnth  of  a  CbriRtiiui  nation  in  thii 
knowledge  and  oltedicucc  of  Christian  faith,  ought  in  common  faith- 
fnlnoss  and  conimun  honesty  to  reprobate  and  denounce, 

'  Tou,  T  n'pnit,  have,  »n  fnr  a»  I  am  infomiod,  refrained  from  taking 
any  public  stiip  to  vindicate  yoiir  own  character,  and  must  thcroforo 
be  content  to  l)ear  tho  Rtiyina  of  public,  notorioUR,  pnxilaimed  com- 

Slicity  in  an  act  which  T  am  uunilUng  again  to  characterize  as  it 
eservcs. 

*  I  am.  Reverend  Sir, 

*  Your  obedient  eerrant, 
•Bev.  F.  Temple.  'H.  Exkteb.* 

'  P.8. — In  order  to  prevent  miBnpprohcaiMon,  I  think  it  right  to  add 
tliat,  while  I  do  not  regard  your  l^aay  with  thn  same  feeling  of  aver- 
aion  08  I  cannot  but  feel  for  other  portions  of  tho  book*  1  yet  doom  it 
open  to  very  grave  remark.' 

After  rcodingthese  sentences,  published  at  the  close  of  February, 
il  is  somewhat  startlin<;  to  find  a  writer  two  months  later  endea- 
vouring to  detract  from  the  aiitliority  of  the  common  condemna- 
tioa  by  the  Bishops  through  the  statement  that  'the  name  of 
U.  Exeter  is  now  known  to  have  >x>cn  added  without  his  know- 

\o\.m.—No.224.  2  I  ledge 


480 


Aids  to  J^aitk. 


ledge  and  sfraiiiKt  liU  wish.'*     But  what  will  nur  rrad«T»  »a^ 
wbcn  they  find,   further,   thut   tbe  Bishop  liail  ilistiartlj  stat 
in  his   puhlishcd   answer  to   Dr.  Temple  some  UK  weeks  twfo 
this  was  written,  the  following-  avowal  ? — 

*  I  fdt  coDstmncd  to  accompany  my  coDcnrrcnce  in  the  prooedt 
with  tlio  exprossioii  of  my  jtidgment  that  tlie  paper  to  whitih  I  gave  i 
assent  was  conceived  in  terms  more  feeble  Ihiui  tlu<  oc<msiuu  reqmi 
I  Tentured  to  sketch  a  fonunhi  which  I  eboiiltl  hnv»  wislicd  Uf  ^nl 
Bcrilic  rathor  than  that  which  hn«l  been  adopted,  expressing  th&  p 
which  we  (the  BishnjHt)  hnvo  felt  in  ttceiug  sueh  a  h>^uk,  heariug  ll 
authority  tit  seven  members  of  our  Church;  etillmore,  of  ininiBtiirs 
God's  Word  and  Saeramente    among   tis— of  men  Bpecially  bonne 
imdtr  Iho  uu)»t  Mih-niu  eugiigeuicnta,  to  fioithful  maintenaneo  of 
troths  sot  forth  in  onr  Articles  of  Religion,  in  onr  Bmik  of  C'oi 
Pmyer,  and  even  in  the  Creeds  of  the  Church  CAtholic.     Tl 
gODornl  tonur  of  this  unhappy  work  is  plainly  iucoosiatent  with 
to  tlioao  ongi^pemcnts  wc  cannot  hcaitito  to  declare.    Whedu* 
paiticnlar  statements  are  expressed  in   langaagc  so  cloody  or 
guarded  as  to  londer  inexpedient  a  more  funnal  dealing  with 
cither  in  the  conrt^  of  the  Church  or  by  nyiiudical  oensare.,  ift  a  qi 
tion  which  demands  and  is  recciTing  our  anxious  consideration.* 

So  that  what  tho  Kcvicwcr  transforms  into  a  mitigatloa  of 
sentence  on  liis  clients,  riz.,  that  'the  sipiaturc  li.  Kxet«r  vas| 
added  without  his  knowledj^c  and  afrainst  his  wish,'  as  it  standi 
in   its  nakr^d   simplicity  of  fact,  is  this, — that  the   Bishop  did] 
concur  In  the  enmmon  sentence,  but  conceived  that  it  was  *  ceo* 
cwved  iu  tcnns  more  frehle  tbnn  the  occasinn  rp(iuin*<l.'      Sundy 
this  is  ver}'    much   an   if   the    prisoner's   counsel   should    calmly 
assume  bis  prorcd  innocence,  because,  whilst  the  majorit>'  of  hi* 
judges  were   content  witli   inflicting  on   him  penal  seiritudc  for 
life,  one  would  havn  dec-meil  it   far  niectiT  punishment  for  his 
crime  that  he  sluiuld  be  Imnffcd,  drawn,  and  ijunrtirred. 

One  other  attempt  of  the  reviewer  to  detract  fmrn  the  weight 
of  this  document  must  not  be  passed  over  wholly  unnoticed.  It 
is  a  more  cautious  endeavour  tn  represent  the  Bisliop  of  London 
as  having  in  fact  withdrawn  from  bis  share  in  the  commnn 
Episcopal  censure  of  the  lilssays.  The  whole  treatment  i>f  the 
Bishop  is  curiously  suggestive.  For  he  is  both  threatened  and 
cajoled  into  a  silent  adoption  of  tlie  new  position  suggested  for 
him  by  the  reviewer.  He  is  at  once  thrcatenetl  with  a  charge  of 
complicity  in  describing  the  i*arly  diapters  of  the  Tiook  of  Geimis 
as  pambolical,  and  flattered  by  being  reminded  of  the  liberality 
of  his  opinions  in  '  sermons  preached  in  the  generous  artlour  *  of  fl 
bis  *youth,'  before  the  Uoirersaty  at  Oxford ;  and  this  though,  ' 


I 


his 


Aids  to  Faith.  481 

if  we  remember  right,  his  name  was  one  of  those  appended  to 
what  the  reviewer  calls  '  Mr.  Wilson's  doubtless  long-repented, 
ungenerous  act  and  unfortanate  onslaught  on  the  "  Ninetieth 
Tract  for  the  Times.*' '  *  The  sole  ground  for  this  attempt  was 
m  speech  (a  very  unfortunate  one,  we  admit)  of  the  Bishop  in  the 
Upper  House  of  Convocation,  in  which  he  was  well  described  at 
the  time  as  *  evidently  straitened  between  his  personal  regard 
for  two  of  the  Essayists,  whom  he  had  known  for  some  twenty 
years,  and  his  own  sense  of  duty  to  the  Church  and  to  the  revealed 
tmth  in  which  he  believes.'  t  We  must  allow  to  the  reviewer  that 
there  was  something  of  an  undecided  character  about  this  speech ; 
bnt  we  think  that  his  exultation  over  it  as  a  penitential  severance 
of  himself  fay  the  speaker  from  bis  persecuting  brethren,  might 
have  been  a  little  qualified  by  the  recollection  that  the  practical 
measure,  which  the  Bishop  proposed,  as  that  which  would  best 
meet  the  exigencies  of  the  case,  was  that  these  writers  should  be 
called  upon  to  declare  publicly  their  '  belief  in  the  great  truths 
of  Christianity.' 

The  declaration  of  the  Bishops  was  succeeded  by  an  address 
to  llie  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  signed  by  more  than  10,000 
der^men,  condemning  in  the  strongest  terms  the  teaching  of 
the  Essayists.  The  Convocation  of  the  Province  of  Canterbury, 
too,  took  up  the  subject ;  and  there  was  scarcely  heard  in  either 
House  the  faintest  whisper  of  agreement  with  the  new  unbelief. 
So  far,  indeed,  from  it,  that  those  who  for  various  reasons  depre- 
cated a  sjTiodical  condemnation  of  the  book,  were  as  eager  as 
any  to  disavow  all  agreement  with  the  opinions  of  its  authors; 
whilst  an  address  of  thanks  to  the  members  of  the  Upper  House 
for  their  censure  of  it  was  adopted  by  the  Lower  House. 

So  far  the  voice  of  the  Church  through  its  several  organs 
uttered  no  wavering  or  uncertain  sound.  But  all  this,  in  the 
opinion  of  many  whose  judgment  was  the  most  worthy  of  con- 
sideration, could  not  exempt  the  special  guardians  of  the  Faith 
£rom  the  duty  of  taking  the  steps  belonging  to  their  office,  to 
obtain  a  yet  more  formal  and  authoritative  censure  of  the  new 
opinions.  Their  advocate,  in  the  article  to  which  we  have 
referred  already,  expresses — in  a  passage  of  singular  flippancy — 
his  *  concurrence  with  the  Episcopal  censors'  in  the  *  charges'  of 
•flippancy  of  style  and  rash  partnership,'  adding  'but  there  is 
no  litui^ical  condemnation  of  bad  taste  except  by  the  example 
of  contrast :  there  is  no  article  against  joint  liability  ujdess  it  be 
the  TkiTty-eighth  ("  of  Christian  men's  goods  not  common  ").* 
After  diis  poor  witticism,  he  continues  in  a  tone  of  arrogance 

•  'EdinbttrghReview/Ko.  2S0,p.  495.  t  'Goardian,' March  6, 1861. 

2  I  2  and 


482 


Aids  to  Faith. 


and  taunt  which  pervadeg  the  article,  '  a  dim  scnso  . 
tlir  trun  statr  of  thn  tvis(>  has  iiiac1t<  itself  fi-lt  at  limes  during  tU( 
coiitrovrrsv,  rhiffl^'  m  tin?  K[>iKii>j)al  ullorauccs  ....  an  imper- 
fectly realized  coavictioii  that  there  i«,  after  all,  no  oppositiot 
between  the  Articles  and  the  doctrines  of  the  book,  which  onl) 
has  remained  mia&sailcd  by  legal  wca|K>us  because  its  advcrsarirj 
well  know  tlmt  bv  such  wea|wjn3  it  is  in  fact  unassailable.'* 

We  aui  fill!  well  uiidetstaud  one  in  the  |H>sition  of  llie  Bisho] 
of  Salisbury — Intrusted,  under  the  most  anful  res|X>nsibi]ittes,-j 
with  the  {guardianship  of  the  true  deposit,  in  his  own  Dioccsc- 
feeling:  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  allow  such  rhallt 
as  these  to  pass  umioticed  ;  and  believing  that  a  neressity  wb 
laid  upon  him  of  preserving'  hy  action,  even  under  our  present 
most  unsatisfactory  system  of  ecclesiastical  law,  the  people  com* 
mitted  to  his  oversight  from  the  authoritative  teaching  of  errors 
which  he  had  deliberately  combined  with  his  brethren  solcimdj 
to  censure. 

In  bis  Diocese,  and  invested  *vitli  the  cure  of  souls,  was  one  » 
the  two  K.ssayist5  whom   even  the   lit>eralitv  nf  the   Edinbur^l 
reviewer  cannot  wholly  exculpate.     *  Wo  cannot,'  he  says,  *  aroidi 
<)bs4*rving  thut  the  flippant  and  contemptuous  tone  of  tlie  re%'iewerJ 
(Dr.  Rowland  Williams)  often  amounU  to  a  direct  breach  of  th< 
coninact  with  which  tlie  volume  opens,  that  tlie  subjects  th('rr*ii|| 
touehetl   should  be  handled  **  in  a  lieroming  spirit.*'      Anythin* 
more  unlKxomiiif;  than  some  of  Dr.  Williams's  remarks  wc  ncverJ 
Jiave  read  in  writings  professing  to  be  written  seriously.'  t  Against 
liim,  under  that  form  of  the  ecclesiastical  law  which  is  callt 
'letters  of  request,'  and    ivliirh   brinets  the    matter  iu  questionj 
immediati'ly  before  the  Qmit  of  the  Archbishop  of  tbc  province^  f 
.f-he  Bishop  of  Salisbury  proceeded.     It  was  matter  of  ptibli&j 
J3otoriety  that  he  took  this  step  with  the  deepest  reluctance.    That! 
be  did  at  last  take  it,  no  one  can  wonder  who  remembers  tbosej 
solenui  words    in    the  Consccmtion  Service  in  which  he  whi 
undertakes  the  office  then  conferred  pledges  himself  '  to  be  readyl 
witli  all  faitliful  diligence  to  bunish  and  drive  away  all  erroneous) 
and  stranjfc  dottrines  contrary  to  God's  word;  and  botli  privately' 
and  openly  to   call   upon  and   encourage  othcrB   to  the  same' 
— Contccraiion  Office. 

Dr.  R.  Williams  shares  with  Mr.  Wilson  the  special 
of  the  *EtUnburgh'  reviewer;  not  so  much,  it  is  true,  for 
he  puts  forth,  as  for  his  mode  of  doing  it,  'If  he  was  miniled] 
to  be  n  little  sceptical,  he  should  nut  at  the  sJtme  time  Iiare  beeiii 
sc-ojidalous  ; — be  had  no  business  to  "shake  the  red  flag"  of  his  J 


whnti 


■  Ediuborgh  Itertcv,'  No.  230,  p.  4S4. 


t  Kid.,  p.  «T9. 

unbelir'f 


d 


Aids  to  Faith. 


A^ 


nnbelicf  in  the  "  face  of  tlie  mad  bull "  of  OrtliofToxy  • — hp  had 
dealt  in  '*  assertions  which  evrii  ///«  lenrtinl  ami  scrjttii-nl  "  (let  our 
readers  mark  the  ominous  cunjuuction)  "  would  hesitate  to 
receive."  SutHi  is  Mr.  Wilson's  statement  leipccting  the  fourth 
Gospel  (p.  U6) ;  and  that  the  taking  of  Jerusalem  by  Shishak  ii 
for  the  Hebrew  history,  that  whicli  the  sacking  of  Rome  by  the 
fjaals  is  for  the  Roman  (p.  170).  This  last  assertion,  wholly 
unsupported  by  arpument,  is,  not  only  according  to  our  humble 
belief  but  according  to  the  whole  tenor  of  the  great  work  of 
Ewald,  njually  untenable  in  its  negative  and  its  positive 
aspect.*  • 

Certainly  these  '  assertions,'  wbolly  at  variance  with  any  re- 
verence whatever  for  tlie  Scriptures  as  the  word  of  GcmI,  arc  a 
little  difficult  of  acceptance  to  any  one  who  is  not  very  <listinctly 
in  the  reviewer's  language  'learned  and  sceptical  ;*  and  we  cannot 
wnmler  that  the  writer  who  h.x9  hazarded  them  was  also  brought 
before  the  Kcrlcstastital  Courts,  esp<H'iiilIy  as  he  goes  on  with  a 
sort  of  *  reading  inadt:  easy '  advertisement  Ut  sliow  how  men 
called  upon  to  give,  by  aubsrriptitm  to  ct-rtain  articles  and  for- 
mularies, a  pledge  of  how  and  what  they  will  leach,  us  the  con- 
dition of  their  receiving  the  authority  and  endowments  of  the 
preacher's  office,  may  subscrilK'  tliese  dot^uments  without  helieving 
them  ;  and,  in  profirssing  tbc-ir  allowance  of  ihent,  mean  only  that 
tliey  endure  their  existence  as  necessary  evils. 

Acconlingly  he,  too  (the  age  probably  of  tltc  venerable  Bishop 
of  Ely  having  prevented  the  suit  proceeding  in  the  name  of 
the  Diocesan},  was  brought  Wfore  the  Court  most  appropriately 
by  the  Proctor  in  Convocation  for  the  clergy  of  the  diocese,  who 
mast  neetis  have  a  keen  interest  in  wiping  off  from  their  body 
the  deep  and  eating  stain  of  allowed  heresy  amongst  themselves. 
Througli  the  somewhat  tedious  stages  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Couru, 
relieved  by  speeches  of  no  ordinary  interest,  especially  by  that  of 
Mr.  Fitzjames  Stephen  for  tbe  defence,  and  the  admirable 
arguments  of  Uie  new  Queen's  Advocate,  Dr.  (now  Sir  Robert) 
Phiiliraorc,  these  two  cn\ises  have  now  travelled  to  a  solemn 
judgment  delivered  in  the  Court  of  Arches  by  Dr.  Lushington  ; 
— fi  judgment  which,  though  in  form  delivered  only  on  an  intrr- 
locutt>ry  appeal,  was  'in  fact,'  as  the  Judge  himself  informs  us, 
*a  decision  upon  the  merits.* 

■  The  highest  directly  Ecclesiastical  Court,  then,  of  tbe  Church 
bu  now  pronounced  its  sentence  upon  two  of  these  notorious 
Essays,  u{>on  two  which  are  amongst  the  worst  of  them  ; — for  ihe 
Wxiter  of  that,  which  travelled    the  farthest  in  error,  which  we 


484 


Aids  to  Faith. 


forbear   to  characterize  a  second   time  by  its  true  Dame,  had 
been  removed  from  the  jurisdiction  of  all  cnrthly  courts-— and 
for  very  man?  reasons  we  think  it  well  worth  while;  to  i-xnmint* ! 
rloselv    into  the  judt^inent   so  drlivrnil.     Such   nti   fxnininatiuii 
tlic;   learned    niid    distinpiishi-d   J  iKlffe    in    his    ronclii<ling   Kcn-j 
ti'mes    iicfUiK    Ui    \XA    mthtT    l4>    invite    than    dejuecate.       ^VJl  [ 
through,   indeed,    it  is  manift^at    that    lu?    is  possessed   with  an  I 
almost  nverwhclming  sense  of  thr>  extreme  gravity  of  the  occasioa] 
and  thi-*  groilncss  of  the  interests  %vhirh  are  at  stake ;  and  these] 
emi>tions  gathtrr  themsflvcs  up  into   the  closing  utti^i-ance :   *Ii 
have  diftchar^^ed  my  duty  to  the  best  of  my  ability.     I  am  awaiej 
that  these  judgments  will  be  severely  canvassed   bv  the   clcrgyj 
and  by  othm.     Be  it  so  :  tlicreby  it  may  lie  ascertainr<l  whether | 
they  are  in  aecunlaoee  with  law  ;  and  aceordance  with  law  ou^ti 
to  be  the  sole  object  of  a  Court  of  Justice/  * 

The  ruling  principle  of  the  whole  judgment  is  exprened  ii 
these  few  words.     In   pronounctna  the  penalties  of  the  law,  lltul 
leametl  .Itidg'e  repeatedly  mnind:(  us  that  he  is  condemning  not 
the  errors  or  tlie  evils  of  tlie   ilociiment  which  has  Iieen  brou^t 
l>efore   hlin,  but  simply  its  tnuisgrpssion  of  the  law;  that  he  is  [ 
maintaining  not  truth,  but  the  denlamtion  of  truth  crmtained  in  I 
the  Articles  and  Formularies  of  the  Established  Church.     Thi* 
must  be  borne  constantly  in  mind  in  considering  this  momcntoos 
judgment  by  every  one  who  would  uudcrstand  its  reni  tenor  and! 
effect ;  and  it  is  iinfler  the  light  of  this  guiding  principlt*  that  w< 
prup<>M>  to  Kubjcit  it  to  suih  an  examination  as  will,  we  boUeri 
make  clear  its  tiue  bearing. 

First,  then,  we  have  to  notice  that,  as  a  consequence  of 
constrnrtiun   of  the  judgment,   besides  the   direct  judicial   sen«>J 
tence  as  to   jM'nalties  inci(TTe4l  or  avoideil  in  tlieec  pages,  thtuo  il 
a  mora!  decision  on  tbeni  nmniag  tlirou^h  llio  whole  legal  ult 
ftnce,  coucbed  often  in  language  of  singular  force  and  clenm 
Thus,  for  example,  our  onn  complaint  of  a  studied  obscurity 
evasiveness  of  statement  is  continually  repeated  by  the  Juc 
*  First,  tlien,*  he   says,  *  to   ascertain  the   real    mMUiiug'  of 
passages  exirarled  (p.  18);  and  1  must  say  this  is  no  easy 
If  the  autbor  had  studied   to  express  his  sentiments  with 
biguity,  1  doubt  if  he  could  have  been  more  successful.      Mavir 
rend  and  re-rend  the  passage.  I  am   not  satisfietl  that  I  distinrtlyj 
anil  accurately  comprehend  its  im)K>rt*(]i.  14).      Again:   'It  tCj 
very  lUllicull,  for  ine  at  least,  to  ascertain  the  true  intent  of 
sentence.'     Again  (p.  21):  '1  am  not  sure  that  1  distinctly 


*  Jitilstamt  ilt-liTcred  ou  Ilt«  SMh  of  June,  IS€3,  b;  ilic  Rjglit  Hoo.  S. 
iagtna.  Drau  of  itw  ArcIiM.  i.  44. 

prebend  J 


Aids  to  Faith. 


48* 


nnhcnd  tlir  mcanijiff  of  the  next  sentonce.'  Again  (p.  33)  :  *  It 
u  lo  be  re^rfttetl  ttiat  Mr.  Wilson,  in  his  Esshj,  has  frcqucntljrj 
expresse*)  himself  in  language  so  ambiguous  as  to  admit  of  oppo- 
site ctinstructioDS '  (p.  24).  *  I  procc-ed  to  the  next  pnssa^e.  t 
will  tandidly  say  that  I  do  not  frel  perfpctly  certain  that  1  com- 
prehend its  true  meaning.*  'The  next  part  of  the  extract  is  stiU 
more  diflicult'  (p.  34).  'This  sentence  is  oj^cu  to  di>Trse  intei> 
jirctntiotiH,  anil  siime  of  its  tprms  ase  self-contradictory  '  (p.  34). 
VV'hu  can  Yvaii  these  ruiti^ratnl  ^ronns  of  liaDlcil  judicial  sagu- 
city  without  sympathy  for  the  suflerer  wlio  has  to  tinrk  out 
amidst  these  'evasions,'  'sclf-cuiitmdic:tions,' and  'studied  obscu- 
rities' the*  gi^ldcn  thread  of  thought  'f  To  demand  a  judgment  on 
them  is  niilly  too  like  the  ritpiirrment  of  the  Babylouian  king, 
who  bid  the  puzzled  soothsayers  recal  the  vanished  dream,  of 
which  ihey  were  to  furnish  afterwards  the  inter nrotatioti.  But 
tlicrc  arc  deeper  evils  in  such  a  st3'Ie  of  writing  than  the  agonies 
■t  causes  to  the  Judge  who  has  to  decide  tx\>>m  its  criminalities. 
Those  obscurities  of  statement  as  to  the  Articles  of  the  Fuith  arc 
the  Tea«Jiest  instruments  of  spreading  error.  Under  such  clouds  of 
thought  and  words,  the  whole  body  of  the  trutli  may  be  carried 
piecemeal  away.  The  most  marked  outlines  of  tlte  Christian 
scbcnie  melt  away  amidst  these  mists  into  the  undistinguished 
glimmering  of  the  sumjuuding  fog.  Obscurity,  therelVire,  in 
a  tcacluT  of  tlie  Faith  is  close  akin  to  Ihc  deadly  crime  of 
pronounced  heresy. 

There  is,  too,  another  evil  in  obscurity  of  which  this  judg- 
ment supplies  frequent  instances.  'l"he  I'rotcan  character  of  error 
so  promulgated,  whilst  it  is  singularly  favourable  to  the  gem>ra- 
tton  uf  fluulits,  eludes  hy  >ts  sbadowv  uncertainty  the  mucked 
gravp  of  justice.  '  I  lliink,*  savs  the  Jml<ce  (p.  29),  *tliere  is  a 
doubt  as  to  the  s«n&e  iu  vrhich  Dr.  \Villiaius  has  expressed  him- 
self; antl  ii'  there  be  a  doubt,  as  this  is  a  crijniual  case,  he  is 
entitled  ti>  the  benefit  of  it.'  '  Mr.  Wilson's  use  of  these  con- 
tradictory terms  ....  might  leave  ....  the  impression  that 
he  dnubtcfl  nrhether  the  lioly  Scriptures  had  Ix-en  supernatural ly 
communicated,  &c.'  'Without  saying  this  impression  uf  this 
passage    is  folsc,   I  cannot  say  it  j»   ncccwarity  the  true   one-, 

especially  cun^idering  this  is  a  criminal  cfise On  the 

whole,  therefore,  I  come  to  the  conclusion  lh.it  as  a  criminal' 
charge,  'it  cannot  be  supportetl '  (p.  35).  *  Whatcvej-  maj  be 
its  meaning,  it  is  much  too  vague  to  enable  ttie  to  draw  any 
conclusiun  from  iu'  And  so  the  teacher  of  error  so  far  retains 
his  place  amongst  the  anthurised  tlectarers  of  the  Church's  doc- 
trine. 1  lis  offence  (for  obscurity  or  ambiguity  ujMin  such  subjects 
is  an  ofli-nce)  is  his  protection.   This  Is  a  second  and  a  great  evil 

of 


of  sncb  8  style  of  writing  in  clcr^men.  As  wp  said  at  first,  wf 
consider  the  evil  done  by  tJie  clergy  I>cing  suiTcred  ta  vent  sucb 
speculations  far  grestpr  tlmn  nny  <"vil  likely  to  be  done  by  tbe 
speiulittiuns  tbcmMilves.  TUerc  may  be  few  who  are  sufficiently 
weak  to  have  thoir  faitli  shaken  by  such  empty  sup-pestions ;  but 
the  weip;ht  of  the  whole  Order  may  be  sliiikeri  bv  die  |M!rinitted 
presence  in  it  of  such  cloudv  heretics.  The  'Epistolip'  of  thcs<? 
in  this  sense  '  <ibscun>rum  vimrum  '  are  too  dull  to  be  very  mia- 
leaditi^,  and  might,  so  far  as  their  intrinsic  power  of  spreading 
error  goes,  have  )>ccn  left  to  perish  as  literary  failures  by  tlicir 
own  ponderosity  ;  but  trust  in  all  guidanee  may  Ik-  fatally  shaken 
if  the  dullest  of  mislcaders  are  stiilered  to  remain  undisturbed  on 
the  roll  of  authorised  guides. 

It  is  not,  then,  as  it  seems  to  us,  easy  to  exaggerate  this  primaiy 
condemnation  by  Dr.  Lushington  of  these  obscure  transmitters 
of  the  lights  of  revealed  troth. 

But  there  is  vet  another  class  of  censures  whirli  penades  tltp 
jndgment,  the  full  weight  of  wbtrh  can  only  be  estimate*!  by 
those  wild  know  luiU  Iiear  fully  in  remrmbrance  the  great  bri^th 
of  the  Judge's  own  long-expressed  sympathies  with  all  fair  and 
honest  intellectual  speriilntion  and  inquiry  as  to  revealed  n-ligion» 
even  to  the  verge  of  what  many  might  deem  rBtionalism  itsnl£ 
Tliese  arc  contained  in  the  perjielually  rerrurring  rlistinction 
between  the  tjuestion  the  Judge  has  to  decide — namely,  whether 

*  doctrines  have  been  promulgated  at  variance  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  Church,  as  declared  in  the  Articles  and  Formularies '? 
(Judg.  p.  5)  and  that  which  he  hits  not  to  decide — namely, 
nvhether  *  tliey  are  inconsistent  with  the  true  doctrine  of  the 
Christian   faith*?     They  are  couched  in  such  words   as   these: 

*  There  may  be  much  that  in  the  private  opinion  of  the  Coiirc 
excites  deep  regret,  and  is  deserving  of  censure  or  severest  rcprw* 
bntion  (p.  17),  and  yet  that  tlie  law  of  the  Church  may  not  reach* 
(p.  9).  ^Though  1  think  Dr.  Williams's  opinion  militates  against 
cmc  of  the  most  important  doctrines  held  by  the  most  venerated 
divines  of  the  Churcli,  1  cannot  come  to  the  conclusion  that  th»| 
Articles,  iS:c.,  have  been  violated '  (p.  22).  '  This  may  be  wholly 
irreconcilable  with  tliat  which  is  generally  esteemed  to  be 
ortli<Klox  teaching  of  the  Church,  but  is  not  struck  by  the  S 
and  Seventh  Articles  of  Religion  '  (p.  26). 

But  perhaps  the  severest  of  all  these  censurtai,  as  expres<iing 
mfira!  estimate  furmwl  by  the  Judge  of  the  dishonesty  of  writi 
wlitch  yet  Just  escaped  the  hold  of  the  law,  is  conbttneil  in  tbi 
passages  which  deal  w  ith  Sir.  Wilson's  new  theory  of  sirb3criptioti.j 
*Alr.Wil8on  draws  some  very  fine  distinctions  as  to  how  the  Articlei 
of  Religion  may,  in  tmth,be  attacked  and  censured.'     *Tl»erp  it 

rather 


I 


A^  to  Faith, 


487 


T«thpr  a  long  (liscussioa  upon  the  meaning  of  tbe  words  "  allowing" 
aoel   "  arknnwl«lg^ing  the  Articles  to   l>c  ngrccnble  to  the  Wordj 
of  God.*'     Mr.  Wilson  goes  the  length  of  suviiig  "'  manv  nrtiuicM'O 
in  or  submit  to  a  law  as  it  operates  upon  themselves,  whii-h  lUev 
would  be  horror-struck  to  have  enacted."     The  plain  meaning  »if 
tliis  is,  that  a  man  may  allow*  that  which  he  dialKlicves  U>  be 
Imc  anfl    right,  or,   rather,   that    M-hich  he  deems   to   be  whollyj 
wrong.   ...    I  he  efP-rt  of  this  doctrine  enunciated  by  any  rlerg^"" 
mnn  of  theChureh  of  Kn^land  niav  l>c  cninpris«H|  in  a  frw  wunli! 
it  IS  to  affirm  that  a  clerf^yman  may  Buhacribe  to  tlie  Aiticlf* 
without  any  regard  to  the   plain  literal   meaning  thereof,  and  at 
the   very  sume  time  n>pudiate    the   essentia]  doctrines  contained 
therein'  (p.    28),      Aj^aiii,    'Mr.    VV'ilsim  has   eonformnl    to   the 
thirty-sixth  canon,  though  he   may  have  adi'ised  othrm  to  evadn 
it.    ...     1   think   that  the  substance  of  what   Mr.  VVtlst^m  luu, 
written  is  this  :  t"  suggest  mixles  by  which  the  Articles  subHcribtHk  I 
may  lie  evaded,  contrary  to  ihe  King's  declamtinn  and  tin-  tcmts 
of  Mibscriptiun.  .    .    .  Air.  Wilson  ....  has  sulm-ribnl  the«oi 

Articles  ....   whether    in   the  sense   rcquin'd    by    tiM 

Canon  or  with  what  <(ualiiication  I  forbear  to  inquire*  (p.  ^0), 

M'ith  our  old-fashioned  English  notions  of  what  honihilv  ■•, 
and  what  it  is  Worth,  we  can  scarcely  conceive  of  censure  inorff , 
biting  tlian  that  which  is  contained  in  all  these  juiSHages,  wiiieli, 
•o  far  as  actual  irgal  condemnation  is  roncemcd,  are  rKrul|ta- 
tory  of  the  accust-d.  Surety  this  condemnation  from  ih<'  agfd 
Judge — known  through  a  long  lite  for  opinions  verging,  if  u> 
either  extreme,  certainly  not  to  that  of  excessive  orthodoxy — nml 
whom  a  knowledge  of  the  excitement  tlte  volume  had  rrraled 
oidy  'induced  tu  exc-rcise  all  care  and  vigilance,  and  to  pre*ervt* 
a  perfectly  equal  and  dispassionate  mind'  (p.  G> — surely  such  a 
moral  condemnation  from  such  a  man  would  justify  all  our  fonn«r] 
notes  of  u'aming. 

But  this  moral  cundemnatiun  is  not  lUI,  or  aiiflhing  like  nil. 
With  ail  their  sepia-like  power  uf  obscuring  plain  truths,  aiul 
escaping  in  the  troubletl  waters  of  contrormy,  uie  accused  wero 
far  from  escaping  direct  legal  censurr.  TTii?  points  on  which 
tbe^*  are  condemnL>d  arc  the  folhnrjng: — Dr.  Idiwland  VVilliams, 
for  declaring  tlie  Rible  tu  be  *an  expression  of  devout  reason,  an/) 
Uie  written  voice  »(  the  congregation' — one  of  llie  sp-eial  erron 

*  It  may  bi  wtO  to  moiad  oar  nadai  «f  lb*  het  «kicli  «r  Ibm*  tirmAf ' 
potatwl  vnl  (vol.  CIS.  p.  S?«],  ifaat  tha  vord  '  slla* '  in  lbs  Utli  ITucm  don  ■<« 
ncaa,  m  Mr.  Wiltoo  mmok^  Hi  aeqwiesw  In.  btt  ii>  •  spprotr/  Tbto  li  aot  «n1v 
ihowu  bjr  the  (eatrsi  Ewnacs  of  tka  ut  la  whkli  Uw  fsaiiM  «rm  ftanua* 
but  is  pliiMd  brjrosd  sit  dovM  b]r  Our  bnA  Uial  iB  tb<-  I^ilia  CUMt.  vbkli  U  af  M* 
onliDsu  tiohiohtT  with  ibs  Cnrikh.  'lUowttb '  b  awwmtj  by  'awalM  ssw 
pfVbsL'— 0«tbvfr*  Ifyaab&t,  i.  fsa. 


to  which  we  called  atteationf* — is  adjudged  to  have  riolated 
the  Sixth  ami  Seventh  Articles  of  Religion,  and  to  hare  advanced 
*  positions  Kutiittnntially  iacunsiHttent  with  tlie  nil-important  doc- 
trine impcisi-d  hy  law  tliat  the  Uililc:  is  (iinI's  wind  written' 
(]t.  20).  Si^omlly.  On  the  cardiiKil  duclriiio  of  Pnipitiatiim, 
which  *  by  the  Thii-ty-fixst  Article  uf  Religion  is  declart^^  to  be 
tite  Oblation  by  Cbrist  llnishcd  ujion  the  Cross  for  siu,'  Dr. 
Williams  Is  cundemiicd  Inr  a  di^claration  of  it  ^  incnnsistcnt  widi 
and  contrary  to  the  Thirty-first  Article'  (ji.  27).  Thinlly.  As 
tu  Justification  by  Faith,  he  is  cotuioinned  fur  teaching  it  to  btt 
peace  cif  mind,  instead  of  Justification  for  the  merit  of  our  Ltml 
by  faith — an  explanation  'wholly  inconsistent  with  and  repugnant 
to  the  Eleventh  Article '  (p.  31). 

Thus,  in  fine,  after  all  ambiguities  and  obscurations;  aftci 
striking  out  all  the  rontmdictions  of  Holy  Scripture  as  it  has 
always  been  uaderstooil  by  the  pious  and  devout;  after  subtract- 
inj;  all  passaj^es  in  which  the  writer  is  rather  retailintr  Baron 
Itiinscn's  views  than  stating  liis  own,  and  giving  him  the  bi-nefit 
of  evpry  doubt,  he  is  cnmlemned  for  no  liijliter  ernirs  th.in  deny- 
ing Holy  Scripture  to  be  thu  Word  of  God,  and  explaining  away 
€«■  contradicting  the  doctrine  of  the  Propitiation  wroujrhi  out  for 
us  by  our  Loiil,  and  o»ir  own  juatifieatinn  in  God's  sight  for  the 
only  merits  of  our  Saviour.  Can  there  be  any  doubt  in  llie  miml 
of  a.  rea.'ionable  man*  whether  the  Bislmp  of  Salisbury  could 
luHie^itly  allow  the  poor  jmrislnoners  of  Hnmd  Cluilke  to  be  the 
subjects  of  clerical  tejichlna  whiih  would  rob  them  of  thcJr 
Bible,  of  propitiation  thi-ough  the  death  uf  Christ,  aud  justificotiau 
by  his  merits? 

Nor  do(%  tlie  mode  in  which  this  jud^fment  luu  been  received 
by  Dr.  Williams,  cnitncutly  characteristic  us  it  is  of  tho  man,  in 
oity  degree  mend  his  case.  It  has  led  tu  the  puhlicutiuii  of  a 
sermon  preached  at  Lamprtcr,  and  put  fortli  witli  an  appendix, 
from  wbieh  we  must  ciil!  for  our  readers  a.  few  of  the  peculiar 
flowers.  It  contains,  wc  venture  to  tliiuk,  more  sctf-praisc  and 
more  abuse-,  direct  and  implied,  of  all  who  differ  from  hin^— 
implying  a  habit  of  mind  richly  furnished  with  two  of  the  moit 
eminent  qualities  for  making  an  heretic,  conceit  and  bittenic«~- 
than.  ]H"rhap9,  imy  similar  prod  uctiua  of  any  other  writer  has  c\CT 
cxhibiteil.  Here  arc  a  few  of  the  specimens  from  the  Hortus  Siccus 
of  L.'un[H'ter,  It  is  thus  that  tlie  general  protest  of  Initv  and  clergy 
against  tbe  '  Ussaya  '  Is  handled.  *  No  presumption  against  the 
religious  tendencies  of  a  book  arista  from  its  vehement  con- 
demnation by  persons  influential  in  Church  and  State,  but  rather 


I 
I 


*  '  Quarterly  nerimr,'  vol.  l(Ki,  p.  IflS. 


the 


Aids  to  Faith, 


489 


the  contrary.    There  is  a  time  to  convince  gainsayeTs,  and  a  time 

to  awaken  formalists If  our  eyes  were  jiurgetl  tu  ttee  as 

Hmvcn  sees,  we  might  find  that  the  Jewi^  Wctimsr  of  the 
Midtllc  Ages  were  nearer  tu  the  GocI  of  Abraham  than  the 
Tirious  idulaters  who  murdered  them  fur  gt>hl  in  ihc  nnme  of 
Christ  ....  their  wont  errors  [the  AtbigcDsesj  were  less 
injurious  to  mankind  than  the  crimes  of  the  hierarchy  by  whom 
they  were  massacrctl.'  • 

Having'  dealt  thus  with  those  who  condemned,  he  thus  cndorset^ 
miinv  of  his  former  fiews.    As  for  the  Bible»  his  views,  he  tells  lU^j 
wimld  leave   it  'a  rnlatiye  sanctity  for  its  subject's  sake,'  when 
there  had  been  made  the  'dedurttons  fn>m  supposed  infnllibility 
which  the  truth  of  Iwtters  requires  '  (p.  ti).     What  these  <leduc- 
tions  may  amount  to  we  can  a  little  uotlerstand  when   we  find 
that  'the  roiistrience  of  mankind   rertdts  not  tmlv  often   nfraitist 
tahumaaittcs  aiid   |iiissIons   in   niK-ient   Jewrv,'   but   'stiniettmes 
a^inst  precepts  or  tone  of  narrative,  by  whidi  those  c-rlnies  ar*. 
justified  or  not  condemned'  (p.  8);  that  *  allowance '  is  to  baJ 
made  '  with  respect  to  tlic  st<ny  of  the  sun  arrested  in  his  conrse|  I 
in   order   to   prolong  a  dav  of   blcKidahetl '  (p.   13);  in   Urnt  *  thff 
mode  of  showing-  a  sceptical  ustroatimLT  that  his  prejudici-s  abtiut 
the  sun  should  yield  to  the  contemporaneousness  of  the  Book  of 
Joshua  has  not  yet   been  <lenied'  (p.  24):  and  that  'the  vulgavi 
tlieory  of  prediction '  (p.  11)  is  to  be  pot  rid  of;  and  that  '  the] 
G»»pela'    arc    Ut    be    'esteemed'   a    memorial    of   the    spiritual 
impulse  propagated  from  the  life  of  Christ,  rather  than  a  code  of 
l^»Jised  precepts  (p.  10). 

lastly,  let  os  set  side  by  side  his  estimate  of  himself  and  of  those 
whfj  have  the  misfortune  to  be  opposed  to  him.  Of  himself  and 
of  his  teaching  he  supplies  us  with  the  following  8ketrhi>s,  some 
lines  of  wbirb  may,  wi?  think,  at  least  awaken  a  smile  on  the 
episcopal  features  in  Abcrgwili  Palace: — 

*To  yon,   my  friends,   who  .  .  .  have   ohwrred  tho  nnstBTKiwied 
patienoR  and  coarteoy  to  men  of  all  ranks  with  which  for  cloven  yraw 
I  have  occuplud  a  Uglily  complicatt^d  position,  let  mo  say  that  on  tho 
«^fHi*iRl  quextinn  of  proiihctic  int«rprolatiim  luy  jierfunuaucn  has  not 
bolied  tho  promiso  of  my  llfo ;  and  when  hereafter  oTory  citation  of  1 
mine  ah&U  bo  proved   substantially  correct,  my  interprDtationa  thoj 
muBt  Ohriiittan  lumr^It/  poealhle,  my  priuclplvu  ftdl  uf  that  txnth  for  I 
which  Chriitt  ilied  siiffcrmg,  aod  the  policy  of  my  detractors  aniwatel] 
hy  a  spirit  neither  religious  uor  just,'  &c.  (p.  lU.) 

Was  there  ever  a  more  perfect  echo  of  tho  old  sclf-sufiiciwicv, 
*  Wisdom  shall  die  with  us — we  arc  they  that  ought  to  speak  *f 


'  Pcrsefutitm  for  the  Wgrd,'  pit  3  sml  ». 


These 


490 


Aids  to  -Faith. 


These  last  words  pive  a  promiBe  ofhow  tliogc  who  tlifier  fmm  bim 
are  iti  be  treated  ;  ami  un«oubt«lW  tliat  *  jiromise/  at  least,  '  uf  bis 
life'  is  not  belinl.  \Vlien  be  finds  tliat  the  Jud^  coiulrmns 
bint,  be  explains,  'with  no  great  discourtesy,  tbe  miscarriajfe  uf 
justice'  (p.  62).  Kellectinp;  on  tbe  ijmorance  which  filled  the 
scat  of  judgment,  be  concludes  that  *  with  ni»  litcrarjf  Ug-bt,  tbcrn 
coald  be  no  ecctcsinsticai  justice*  (p.  02);  whilst  tlic  ^mcml 
administraticm  uf  die  Court  is  thus  sneered  at  with  liis  usual 
'  unsurpiissetl  courtcsj.'  *  If  we  imagine  an  Apostle — and  it  is 
easier  to  conceive  all  tbe  Apostles — indicted  in  tbe  Court  of 
Arches,  than  sanctioning  the  proceedings  of  tbcir  successors 
tbcrc,'  &.C.  (p,  60).  It  is,  indeed,  npiinst  these  *  successors'  that 
he  seems  to  rugc  t)ie  most  angrily,  lie  Is  himself  tbe  *  ofTspring 
of  God,  trampled  into  the  grave  by  tfie  poiictf  of  Caiaphas'  (jt.  48)w 
'Evasion  has  been  on  the  same  side  as  violence'  (p.  47).  '  It  is 
equally  ilangcrous,"  he  avers,  '  to  suffer  a  bishop's  injuries 
silently,  or  to  refute  lliem  triumphantly'  (i>.  31).  What  bis 
personal  experience  of  tbe  first  niternative  may  bavn  been  we 
cannot  nndrrtnke  to  say*  but  bis  rt)rre5pnndenre  with  the  Bishop 
of  St.  David's  maknt  it  quite  certain  that  fmm  that  peculiar  form 
of  danger  which  waits  upon  *  refuting  a  bishop  triumphantly' 
Dr.  HowlatuI  Williams  was  never  otherwise  tiuin  in  the  moft 
entire  security. 

We  will  give  our  readers  but  two  more  specimensof  Dr.  Rnwiand 
Williams.  The  one,  bis  mode  of  referring  to  tlie  volume  called 
*  Aids  to  Faith,'  the  general  character  of  which  we  have  doimI 
above.  Having,  as  he  conceives,  silenced  some  of  its  reasoning, 
be  refer<*  in  his  note  to  tbe  passage  he  is  dealing  with  ns  being 
eonUinnl  in  tbe  '  Aids  to  Tradition^  (pp.  34,  422).  The  last 
specimen  of  this  writer  shall  be  bis  gencriil  diameter  of  the  trial 
in  which  he  has  been  so  justly  condemned.  'What,*  ho  says, 
'will  be  tbe  result  of  this  suit,  undertaken  in  order  to  proctitv 
tbe  falsification  of  literature,  brought  forward  under  untrue  pre- 
texts, supjwrted  by  dislocated  (|Uutations,  pleaded  with  rude  un- 
fairness, and  painfully  procrastinated  beyond  its  natural  occasion? 
I  trust,  even  surrounded  by  all  arts  of  chicane,  to  reap  from  the 
God  of  Justice  a  reward  for  tlic  many  years  in  which  1  bove 
taught  faithfully  tbe  doctrines  of  my  own  CbuTcb  in  an  easy 
bursting  of  this  episcopal  bubble  '  ("p.  43). 

Compare  with  this  signal  example  of  *  unsurpassed  patience  and 
courtesy  '  the  grave,  calm  words  of  tbe  prelate  it  would  maligu ; — 

'And  nov,  my  bratbrcn,  I  Iwvo  oU  but  reached  the  end  wbicb  I  sei 
before  me.  I  have,  indeed,  omitted  to  8poak  to  you  of  many  things 
which  are  of  deep  interest  to  us  all  a8  cburcboten ;  but  this  omiKtUoQ 
bfts  been  intontional.     I  felt  that  I  Bhonld  be  otherwise  Irta^pMBing 

loo 


Aiiii  to  Faith, 


191 


more 


too  macfa  on  ^our  pnticnce  and  forbeEiraacc.  But  there  is,  howeTer, 
006  matter  which  I  have  thus  paaaed  by  from  very  iliffurcnt  cciiutiilnra- 
iioiiK.  T  have  fclt  [)rf!(?lnilo<l  by  tho  legal  prooeedings  in  which  I  un 
eof^gcd  from  entering  npon  a  Hobjcct  vrliich  must  lio  much  closer  to 
all  our  hearts  than  any  uj)on  which  I  have  touuhod,  and  vhioh  is  for 
more  wvrthy  of  our  deopent  Btteiititm.  Yon  already^  T  am  rniro,  mider- 
tbnt  I  am  alluding  to  u  book  which  profcascB  to  bo  the  woric  of 

olei^Tmen  and  one  Uyniau,  and  is  called  "  Essaya  and  IteviewH." 

d  thoit^  I  am  not  going,  however  much  I  may  be  tonptud  tu  do 
BO,  to  break  the  rule  of  ailence  which  circumstance*  havo  now  iin-« 
posed  upon  me,  still  1  feel  that  I  owe  it  to  my  diocese,  both  to  tbaj 
dfii^  and  laity  at  it,  to  explain  to  them,  in  not  many  words,  thai 
roMODS  which  have  led  me  \nt  adopt  the  course  upon  which  I  haTej 
now  entered,  and  to  institute  proceedings  againat  the  r«puted  writecl 
of  one  of  these  Essays. 

^Theni  was  innch  indeed  in  diffimtdo  ms  from  acting  aa  I  ham  done. 
Ib  ifao  first  place  it  is  my  belief,  with  regard  not  only  to  thia  ena , 
Euay  but  to  the  whole  vnlnmo,  that  tlioro  is  not  power  enough  in  it  toi 
aarcise  a  puTmantut  iiifluuucu  over  tbu  miuilu  of  muu.     Tliia,  thoBtl 
ms  one  caubo  for  hesitation.     Bccondly,  I  am  not  myeclf  &cc  fronil 
tho  fear,  which  muiiy  feel  m»tA.  kocnly,  that  legal  procecdingn  will 
Tery  poasibly  for  n  time  exttjiid  and  intensify  that  influence,  whatever 
it  may  be.     Thirdly,  1  do  not  think  that  the  congtitiition  of  our  oonrt|] 
of  judicature  is  as  well  fittcil  as  cue  could  doEim  ft>r  weighing  in  tli*' 
fine  halfiucca  of  truth  Iho  many  tpestiona  wliich  will  throi^h  such 
proceedings  be  uecenaiily  submitted  to  them. 

*  There  are  also  on  the  same  side,  and  so  a  fourth  cause  of  hesita- 
tion, the  dictates  of  a  righteona  cantion  lent  any  feelings  of  indigna- 
tion at  what  haa  appeared  to  many,  and  to  myself  amongst  that  number, 
«  reckless  and  ruthless  attempt  to  pull  down  the  whole  fabric  of 
Christian  diH-trine  to  its  very  fiiiinilutinnH,  fili<iuld  make  mo  furgut  the 
claims  of  jostico,  and  fair  dealing,  and  charity.     And  1  may  furtlier  i 
add,  that  I  waa  also  checked  in  coming  to  the  decision  which  I  hava| 
taken  by  the  thought  that  tlio  alarming  tokenH  of  cumbined  action,  audi 
zeal,  and  eamestncas  might  have  led  mc,  in  my  fcom,  to  exaggerate' 
the  danger,  and  not  to  giro  doe  heed  to  the  warnings  of  discretion, 
and  of  culm  unswerving  confidtnce  iu  the  puwur  of  truth. 

'I  frankly  admit' that  there  were  these  difBcnUics  in  tho  way  of  my 
determining  to  inatituto  legal  proceedings.  But  there  were,  on  the 
otlior  side,  many  weighty,  oiiil  tu  my  mind  prepondenitiug  considera- 
tions in  favour  of  my  subiTiitting  the  KNUty  to  the  Court  cif  1)il>  Arch- 
bishop,  and  of  thus  trying  to  show  that  tho  Chtueh  of  England  dia- 
allowed  its  tcaehing. 

'  For  example,  however  coaiprohenHivo  may  bo  tlwj  limits  witliin 
which  our  tolerant  Church  aUon-s  her  clergy  to  exercise  their  ministry, 
thoHO  limits  must  exist  somewhere.    A^n,  as  h  Tlirihop,  I  acccptodj 
at  tho  time  of  iny  eonaecration  tho  resiKinsibility  of  keeping  the 
tondiing  of  my  clergy  within  thcso  wide  limits.    Thirdly,  the  Arcli- 

bishope 


492 


Aids  to  Faitk. 


bishnpH  and  Biahops  of  the  Cliuroli  of  Knglafid  hftve  testified  hj  a 
]iublic  record  tliat  Hwrn  liuiits  havo  bocii  in  tliuir  apinion  tninif[res4od, 
and  the  Lo\v<:r  House  of  ConTocation  and  my  own  clergy  have  gnen 
in  their  adhesion  to  this  testimony;  and  imoh  nnitcd  expresmoo  ef  | 
o]Kmozi  hai  helped  to  press  the  conolosion  cm  my  mind  that  the 
wu  beyonfl  the  boimda  of  ioleratiun,  and  has  quickened  my  flena  of  | 
napcaiBiUlity  ahoitt  it 

*  It  ia  alao  to  be  noted  that  npou  tlia  writera  of  the  Daaays  thi 
recorded  deoisions  have  been  utterly  withoot  effect.  The  anthonef  j 
them  have,  by  tbu  tupoated  subftLtjuuut  publiuatlou  of  thuir  bimk,  por- 
histvd  in  i-Uallenging  ua  to  show  tluit  buoIi  opiniona  as  tbny  hnvci  pit 
forth  are  inconsistent  vith  the  position  given  by  the  law  uf  the  Church 
of  Kngloud  to  ]ua-  nuuistura.  I  might  abuost  My  that  the  nrritcn 
have,  l^  Buch  condnot^  eeemed  themaelvea  to  protost  a^inxt  infurmal 
action,  and  to  demand,  in  tho  name  of  juaticc,  the  formal  jrulfi^ciit  uf 
those  Courts  to  which  the  decision  of  such  qnestiona  in  this  ooobtiy 
now  belongs.  Nur  is  it  any  ralid  answer  to  such  an  appt^al  from  ia- 
fonoal  jndgmcnta  to  a  formal  one,  to  say  that  the  instruments  which 
the  Church  can  use  in  the  coarts  of  law  ore  not  those  which  UumIo* 
gianM  would,  iu  ull  rt»4pix:t£,  truHt.  This  may  be  so,  but  aiill  (hiffa  jp, 
110  denying  that  tliey  aro  tlmso  with  which  alone  G(k1  lias,  in  hia 
I'TOvidcnue,  provided  ns  for  the  defence  of  His  truth ;  and  the  c( 
(jucnoo  of  my  not  nainf;  thorn,  and  ao  of  doing  nothing  funually^ 
according  to  legal  sanction  with  roonrd  to  Uiis  KsMy,  might  be 
our  c'hil^ivm  would  inherit  tho  conclnsioD  that  such  teaclung,  the 
puKuilily  most  ropiigiiiuit  to  tho  roligiuus  seutimonta  uf  their  fathon^ 
WUH,  in  1861,  admitted  to  Ik  not  tmlawfol.  The  thrmght  of  bcJng 
rasponaiblo  for  aneb  impunity,  and  so  for  an  admisBon  miicb  may  m 
mudo  hereafter  to  justify  scepticism,  and  wbot  is  worse  in  niouibera  of 
our  Choroh,  ia  a  vary  iutolciablo  burden  upon  any  one  on  whom  it 
luay  £aU.'  • 

Mr.  Wilson's  greater  obscurity  of  pxprcssinn  intprfprej  even 
more  frequently  than  that  of  Ur,  Williams  with  logal  roiuirtion. 
But  he,  too,  is  lor  from  cscapini^  uncnndcmncd.  tic  is  sontrnced. 
First,  !*■'' (Ifnying-,  in  <rontnidi(tion  of  the  Sixth  and  Twentieth 
Artich's,  thai  tlio  Uiblc  was  writtDii  by  the  siMX'tal  interposition  oi 
the  Oivine  ptiwer '  (Judg.,  p.  3G);  Si>r«ndly,  be  has  'infringed 
tlie  Eightooiitb  Article,  in  (Imiying  alt  iliatinrtion  betHPcn  iiur^ 
nantei)  and  uncovenanted  mercy,  ajid  declarinfr  that  a  man  may 
be  saved  by  the  law  which  he  professes'  (p.  42);  TbirdU-,  he  if 
eondemned  for  declaring  '  that  all,  finally,  both  groat  and  small, 
will  escapR  everlasting  condL-miialioii  ' — opinifins  which  the 
Judge  'cannot  reconcile  with  the  passages  cited  of  the  Creeds 
and  Formularies.'  So  that  on  these  three  master  propositions,  to 
the  full  justification  of  Mr.  Foodall,  the  Vicar  of  Great  Suughtno 


Aids  to  Faith.  493 

ii  oonTictcd  of  contradicting  the  teaching  of  the  Church  of  which 
he  is  a  minister. 

The  fall  weight  of  this  sentence,  and  the  moral  certainty  of 
its  being  confirmed,  should  it  be  questioned,  on  appeal  in  the 
Superior  Court,  can  best  be  measured  by  seeing  how  reluctantly 
the  Judge  arrived  in  any  case  at  a  conviction  of  the  accused 
heing  guilty  of  a  legal  offence.  Nowhere  is  the  strong  bias  in 
this  direction  of  the  judicial  mind  more  strikingly  exhibited 
than  in  the  mode  in  which  he  shelters  both  Dr.  Williams  and 
Mr.  Wilson  from  the  charges  brought  against  them  of  denying 
^le  genuineness  of  the  Second  Epistle  of  St.  Peter.  Had  they, 
pronounces  the  Judge,  denied  its  canonicity,  they  must  be  con- 
demned ;  but  as  they  only  deny  it  to  be  genuine,  and  may  mean 
no  more  than  that  it  was  a  canonical  book,  but  not  written  by 
St.  Peter,  but  *  by  another  under  Divine  guidance,'  I  am  bound 
to  give  them  the  '  benefit  of  the  doubt '  (pp.  25,  26,  and  43). 
Now,  if  ever  there  were  a  case  in  which  the  benefit  of  such  a 
doubt  would  seem  to  have  been  reduced  to  the  most  infinitesimal 
grain,  surely  it  is  ^is :  since  the  question  of  authorship  is  insepa- 
lably  mixed  up  with  the  truth  of  the  Epistle.  For  the  Epistle 
— ^not  only  in  die  first  address,  which  is  an  essential  part  of  it, 
bat  in  the  body  of  the  letter,  where  the  writer  distinctly  speaks 
of  himself  as  a  witness  of  the  Transfiguration — claims  to  be 
written  by  the  Apostle  St.  Peter.  To  deny  its  authorship  is, 
therefore,  to  deny  its  truth,  and  so,  surely,  to  deny  its  being  written 
under  the  Divine  guidance.  And  yet,  with  so  strong  and  open 
a  bias  against  finding  the  accused  guilty,  these  two  incumbents 
of  parishes  arc  each  pronounced  by  the  Judge  to  have,  on  three 
sepsoate  fundamental  points,  contradicted  die  very  letter  of  the 
Creeds  and  Articles. 

Here  then,  so  far  as  the  Court  of  Arches  is  concerned,  the 
cause,  decided  on  its  merits^  is  waiting  the  end  of  the  summer 
vacation  for  its  next  formal  steps.  We  cannot  doubt  what  those 
will  be.  It  is  impossible  that  writers  morally  condemned  by 
the  Court  with  such  severity,  who  have  escaped  so  narrowly  on 
so  many  counts,  and  who  have  been  sentenced  so  decisively 
upon  such  momentous  charges,  can,  without  full  retractation,  be 
allowed  to  hold  their  office  of  teachers  in  the  Church  they  have 
outraged. 

We  do  not  affect  not  to  rejoice  in  this  decision.  There  were 
diose  who  doubted  the  wisdom  of  bringing  these  men  to  trial ; 
we  were  never  of  the  number.  The  mischief — we  must  repeat 
it — which  their  writings  could  do  depended,  in  our  judgment, 
neither  on  their  ability,  for  it  was  little;  nor  their  power,  for  it 
was  faint ;  nor  their  learning,  for  it  was  shallow  and  pretentious  ; 

nor 


m 


Aids  io  Faith. 


nor  on  their  novelty,  for  it  was  stale ; — but  upon  ibetr  pas 
The  evil  of  lite  rase  was  Dot  that  vain  men  sbodd  real 
VBoity,  but  that  clergymen  uf  the  United  Church  abaold  be 
permittwl  t«u'hi*rs  of  scepticism.  The  censure  of  authoritTJ 
alone  rnuM  redress  this  evil,  awl  by  outhnrity  they  have  bo 
censured.  The  uneasy  feeling,  widely  prevalent  and  workit^ 
mighty  harm,  which  arose  from  the  belief  that  our  Church  coiili 
censure  no  error,  has  been  set  at  rest.  The  roncarrcttt 
of  UurdcT  V.  Ht*atli,  which,  in  his  high  honour,  the  Bisbi^ 
Winchester  carried  through  the  Court  of  Appeal,  reganlleas,  ii 
his  zeal  for  the  truth  of  (>ik1,  alike  of  expeiue  and  ohloqar 
and  the  two  Essay  cases  which  have  followed  in  the  Court 
Arches,  hare  distinctly  established  the  disputed  fact  that 
Church  not  only  possesses  a  Canon  of  Truth  to  defend,  but 
the  means  of  defending  it  pracrically  within  her  pnwer. 

Nf>r  has  the  fonn  which  the  judgment  of  the  Dean  of 
Arches  has  assumed  caused  us  any  real  apprehension.  Tlirrc 
undoubtedly  something  startling  in  some  of  the  principles  wl 
he  laid  down  when  tliry  were  first  stated.  But  they  were,  w« 
believe,  essentially  suund,  and  such  as  alone  could,  in  a  C 
connected  with  the  nation  and  the  State,  combine  the  needfu 
•afeguartis  at  once  of  truth  and  liberty.  It  is  of  great  mranc 
that  thi.s  matter  should  be  well  understood  ;  for  that  ui 
is  largrly  entertained  concerning  our  highest  courts  of  jud^l 
on  ductrtnul  mutters  is  indl5]nitabte^  and  tlmt  tlicv  do  need 
changes  cauiiut  reasonably'  be  denied.  What  those  elmngrs 
and  what  they  are  not,  we  think  that  an  examination  of 
judgment  mav  greatly  tend  to  show. 

The  one  leading  principle,  then,  which  pervades  the  jc 
ment,   and    is    rcpeateil,   as    the    leiinied   Judge  says,    ujr^ue  Qi 
nausemn,  is,   diat  the   Court  is  not  concerned  with   the   truth 
with  the  falsehood  of  the  doctrinal  statements  whieh  |rass  untli^j 
its  review,  but  simply  with  their  agreement  with,  or  their  dif-1 
fercncc    from,    the    Articles   and    Formularies   of   the    United] 
Qiurch  nf  England  and  Ireland.      It  is  the  consequences  of  this 
princijih-  wliirh   .ire,  at   first   sight,  startling ;   for   under   its  ruk" 
it  is  plain  that  no  passage  of  Holy  Scripture  as   Moly  Scripture,, 
and  unless   the  Church  has  directly  put  an  interpretatiuu  uiwaj 
it,   can    be  quoted   in  proof  of  the   error  or  souudiie»s  of  any 
doctrinal  statement      Even  the  parts  of  Scripture  which  are  in-] 
corjiorated  in  the  fiirmularies  must  be  excepted   fnim  the  mit 
round  tlirm  in  the  pleadings  iM-forc  the  Court ;  and  thus,  whlUl  a] 
contradiction  of  the  unimjnrt^   part  of  the  formularv  rondenmsl 
the  writer,  a  contradiction  or  an  explaining  away  of  the  inspimi 
part  escajws  uncondemued. 

Another! 


Aitis  to  Faith. 


495 


ADOthcr  startling  conwqucncc  is  this — that  whilst  to  ilony 
OlP  Scriptures  to  be  tho  \\*«nl  of  GocI  will  subjert  aii  English 
clergyman  (o  ilt-pri\iition,  he  may  with  |H*rfect  safety  inform 
tlic  Court  that,  hclioving  it  to  be  ilie  Word  of  God,  he  furtliLT 
teaches  that  almoitt  every  fact  5tate<I  in  it  Is  a  uiytli,  and  every 
doctrine  litei-ally  untrue,  and  ouly  ideolo);ically  dtfu-nsible.  At 
first  sijrht,  it  would  seem  that  this  treatment  derogated  highly 
from  the  Siipreiiie  Mnjcsly  of  Gml's  Word,  and  endang:erc<l 
tktaJly  die  Church's  liuth.  Hut  if  we  look  more  closely  into 
it,  we  shall  find  reason  to  alter  this  coneltision.  For,  in  trutb^ 
it  i»  the  Divine  clement  in  the  Word  <if  God  which  gire-»  to 
it  its  many-side<inps3  and  almost  infinite  power  of  Welding 
uttrranres  to  tlio  soul  of  man.  Tii  limit  this  wide  eonipaiis  is 
the  very  error  of  tin;  Kssavists,  who,  wintiactinjj  tht-  mranin;;  c*( 
Scripture  to  one  sJnfjle  sense,  bid  us  read  it  as  any  oilier  l>(K>k. 
The  whole  history  of  the  Church  contiadicts  this  narrow  con- 
ceit ;  for  heretics  have  iie>er  wanted  texts  interpreted  necordinff 
to  their  own  private  seuse  with  which  t*»  coufinn  their  strung 
leachipg.  Amidst  these  various  interpretations,  it  is  ihe  oflice 
uf  the  Church,  guided  by  the  Spirit  who  dictated  the  Sarred 
Volume,  to  fix  as  to  alt  fundamental  questions  its  true  sense, 
nnd  so  to  be  a  witness  and  a  keeper  of  Holy  Writ  In  iKissagrs, 
therefore,  where  no  such  sense  1ms  I>ceu  tixet)  by  the  Church, 
it  would  far  transcend  the  power  of  an  Kcclesiasticai  Jud^  Xn 
;illempt  the  discharge  of  such  a  function  as  the  fixing  its  true 
iiieaiiinfr.  This,  in  lai^ruiHTo  of  most  appropriate  reverence,  is 
the  exact  declaration  of  the  Dean  of  the  A  relics  :  '  Were  such  a 
task  imposed  upon  ine,  the  want  of  tlieologieal  knowledjje  would 
ineapnciuie  me  from  adequately  pert'orming'  it'  ('.ludg-.,'  p,  13). 
And  he  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that,  as  even  in  re;u)in^  tlic 
Kptstlcs  and  (jospels  the  Church  is  not  defininfr  doctrine,  no 
rcnllr  maintainable  line  can  be  drawn  between  them  ami  the 
lessons,  nnd  thus  that,  if  anv  portion  of  Scriptun*  were  admitted, 
he  must  admit,  and  so  tmdertake  to  fix  the  sense  of  all. 

Si>  fur  then  as  concerns  iht;  revereneedue  to  Uie  M'onl  of  (Jnil, 
we  think  it  clear  that  die  letter  of  Scripture  must  be  excluded 
ID  our  Ecclesiastical  Courts,  botli  from  the  accusation  timl  defence. 
Hut,  furtlier,  we  believe  diat  (his  is  at  die  <uiine  time  the  safegunnl 
both  of  our  frt-edom  and  our  trullu  Of  our  free*loui  it  is 
linly  the  protection;  for  if,  instead  of  l>eing  testiil  by  this 

reement  with  fixed  and  unvaryinfj  standards  of  doctrine,  nny 
statement!)  of  thcoloifv  were  to  be  comparc^d  with  ilie  shifting* 
intcrpretiilions  which  different  Ecclesiastical  Judgp*i  might  affix 
to  the  Won)  of  Ooil,  we  should  soon  gronn  umler  an  intolerable 
tvmnnv.  Noopinions  would  Ix;  safe  if  ineasiireil  bv  such  a  leaden 
'  \xA.  lVi.—NL>.  3.i4.  2  k  rule. 


i 


rule,  and  die  nppointincnl  of  a  new  Dcad  of  the  Arches  tnigt 
iiivolvp  the  sentence  of  a  generation  nf  sound  divines  to  the 
and  pfiinllies  of  heresy'.     For  the  very  same  reason  would  such 
state  uf  tilings  be  most  dangerous  to  the  maintenan(-c  of  the  purJI 
of  the  revealed  Faitli.     t'or  our  safety  as  to  it  rests  under. lli 
direct  aid  of  the  lloly  Spirit  in  tlie  rich  deposit  of  sncrc<l  Irut 
M'iiirh  we  linve   inlieriteil,  and  which  is  fixe*!  for  us  in   crpe«l| 
articles,  and  formularies,  themselves  tn  full  accordance  witli  Holj 
STrijiture  rightly  interpreted,  and  which  therefore  become  in  tin 
standing  canons  for  the  right  interpretation  of  Scripture  it 
I'hus  the  linutntion  of  the  Judy's  power  is  indeed  our  safetjj 
And    tliiH    is    the    answtir    tn    all    the    fears    su^cs1r<l    hv    tU 
iesj»c(?ti'd    PnififHair  «f  Moral    Hhilosophy  at  Camhridgr   in   tin 
frigid    but  ingenious  |>amph]et  iu  which  he  endeavimrs  at  nor 
tu  bbolter  the  Essayists  from  condemnation  and  himself  from  anjj 
danger  of  being  supposed  to  partake  of  their  many  errors,*     Si 
derision  can  liy  ^lossiliility  stiakc  the  great  foundations  of  the  faill 
which  under  (jikI's  Providence  have  been  laid,  like  thL*  routs  of 
mighty  coral  archipelago,  amidst  the  roar  and  beating  of  storras] 
in  the  very  spot  where  the  surge  has  been  heaviest,  and  the  swel 
of  the  brcakere  the  most  incessant ;  to  work  out  which  in  iheil 
perfectness  thousands  upon  thousands  through  successive  gene 
tiuns  have  Ii\'ed  and  sufrere<1  and  confessed  and  blc<I ;  the  tnitli 
ever  spreading  firmer  its  ascertained  base  bv  its  resistance  to 
billows  which  seemed  to  threaten  its  existence.     To  alter  odi*  qI 
t]icse  foundations  of  the  faith,   no  such  judgments  as  our  coi 
thus  limited  are  nllowe<l  to  utter,  can  avail,  more  tbftn  cau 
plummet-line  which  reaidiesdown  to  them  upheave  the  vast  lime 
stone  rocks  which  are  embedded  fathoms  deep  ia  the  blue  wa 
of  the  Pacific. 

But  to  this  it  may  l>e  objected  that  old  dcGnltiom  of  the  fail 
and  old  artictrs  of  icligiori,  which  were  framed  to  meet  foroiL-i 
heresies,  cannot   under  this  limiteil   range  «»f  modern  judgment 
suffice  to  curb  the  wild  eccentricity  of  newer  errors,     Tberp  i«. 
undoubtedly  great  truth  in  this  objectioa.     The  judgment  befor 
us  supplies  evidence  of  its  force.    Thus  '  Whatever  t  may  think.'] 
says  the  Judge,  *  as  to  the  danger  of  the  Iil>crty  so  claimed  *  (o[ 
*  assuming  a  verifying  faculty'  asiu  HoU  Scripture),  •  still,  if  tlnj] 
liberty  do  not  extend  to  the  impugning  the  Arti(  les  nf  Religionl 
or  the  Formularies,  the  matter  is  beyond  my  cogtUKann;  *  (Judfr' 
p.  19). 

The  whole  system  of  ideological    interpretation,  so  tatal  to 
maintahiiug  any  fix«l  objective  tmth  as  revealed  in  Holy  Scriiw, 

*  *  An  Exoutuniioiii  of  iohk  portioiw  of  Dr.  Laabioi^oa'M  Jtulgnumt,*  &«_  W 1 
J.  Grot«,  U.D.,  DeighUMH. 

tan,, 


Aids  to  Faith, 


407 


turc,  U  a  cue  in  poiat,  and  n  caie  full  nf  dnn^er.  *  I  plainly 
sets' says  *''^  .lude:*',  'to  what  frnrfu!  consoqnences  tliis  may  \ye 
carricfi,  but,  provided  that  the  <I)K;triiics  of  tin.'  Articles  of  Heli- 
g'ion  amt  Formnlarics  are  mil  cuntnivciH'd,  tlic  law  lays  ilnirn  no 
limits  of  construction,  no  rult*  nf  in  Iltj)  relit  lion  for  tljc*  Srrijitiires  ' 
(Jndg^.  p.  37).  The  danger  tlien  tuiduubtedly  exisla,  and  llie  rpal 
■|U<^tion  is.  How  can  it  be  mot?  Not,  we  think  that  we  have 
shown^  by  committiDg^  to  our  Judges  what  must,  if  committed  at 
lUl,  be  an  utterly  unlimited  {Mtwer.  ^hirh  in  its  operation  would 
Oliuredly  endaiiffer  hodi  our  I'reedoni  and  our  faith;  hut  in  ihc 
moftc  ui  wliieh  fiom  the  beginninf;  the  Church  has  quanted 
agnitut  it,  by  confronting  tlie  attacks  of  new  heresies  with  the 
defence  of  new  declarations  of  the  ancient  faith. 

It  is  no  real  answer  to  tills  to  allege  that,  with  an  action 
cramped  and  manacled  as  is  ours  from  our  connexion  with  the 
Stale,  it  would  hf  irap«wsihle  for  us  to  frame  such  new  Articles. 
Tliflt  it  would  bt^  impnssihle  we  wholly  ileny :  that  it  would  bi! 
didicult  we  readilv  admit.  The  Spirituality  must,  of  course,  as 
the  special  guardians  of  the  faith,  first  agree  upon  such  Articles ; 
when  framed  they  could  have  nu  legal  validity  until  the  laity  hod 
assented  to  them,  and  until  the  nation  in  its  daly-eonstjtutcd 
Assemblies  liad  decreed  their  enactment  So  marli  the  virtual 
er^tupnct  involved  in  every  National  Church  between  the  ('luiroh 
and  the  nation  necessarily  requires.  I*'or  the  Church  has  declared 
her  messaiie  of  truth,  has  laid  down  its  formal  declarations,  and 
surrounded  it  with  its  necessary  safefjuords  before  she  enters 
into  such  an  alliance.  These  statement<t  and  these  defences  of 
the  truth  the  nntitm  on  Us  |tart  has  atlnwi'd  and  ailopte<l ;  and 
the  Spirituality  on  these  conditiims  has  K-eeived  llie  authoritative 
office  and  the  reniuncmting  endowments  of  the  public  lawful 
teacher  of  religion.  No  change,  then,  can  justly  be  made  in  the 
statu  quo  without  the  free  cnnKcnt  «it  biith  parties  to  Uie  existint^ 
arrangement ;  and  against  any  re-npening  of  tho  (dd  settlement 
a  multitude  of  objections  would  at  anj  moment  amy  themselves. 
The  lovers  of  the  old  would  fear  that  chan^  might  cost  them 
the  loss  of  what  they  had;  the  lovers  of  novelty  would  exclaim 
Af^inst  it  as  threatening  tlielr  attainment  of  the  <liscoveries  for 
which  they  long.  Any  such  I'hange  therefore  \rould,  we  admit, 
be  diflicuit.  Nor  do  we  think  that  such  difficulty  is  by  any 
means  an  unmixed  evil.  It  is  only,  in  our  judgment,  in  t^e  lost 
resort  that  such  changes  ought  to  be  attempted.  But  wc  do  not 
for  an  instant  believe  that  in  such  last  resort  they  would  t>c  found 
impossible.  The  restoration  of  the  netion  of  Convocation  amon]^ 
us,  and  the  gmilual  revival  by  slow  but  sure  step^  of  the  Church's 
power  of  internal  legislation  for  her  own  wants,  in  one  at  least  <il 

2  K  2  our 


our  provinces,  may  itself  be  a  timely  preparation  for  such 
necessity.     Nor  do  wc  doubt  that,  if  our  cxistinp^  fomtuUrit 
prove  to  be  an  insufficient  bnrrier  against  the  frcUing^  sccpticisi 
which  has  soiifilit  t«  n-ar  ita  hcinl  ainon^t  a  few  of  our  twtml 
thousand   cltt^y,  tltr  lioni-st.  ami  fititliful   iii(li|ni*'itinn  which 
alrraily  si>  signally  contlcinnml  these-  latest  attciiipts  nf  unlirlif 
would,  if  need  be,  embody  itself  in  Articles  of  Kelij^ion  snf 
cicntly  clear  to  enable  our  Judjres  leg&IIy  to  condemn  the  oe^ 
du'vices  of  the  ohl  enemy  uf  tlie  Faith.     And  even  before  havii 
recourse  to  this  wir  have  in  actual  iH)ssL'sstoii  another  safp^ar 
No  modern  legislation  has  taken  from  our  sacred   Symxls  llirii 
|w>wcr  of  condemning  heretical   books.     Through  these  or^ 
should  the  occaiiiim  arisi?,  we  doubt  luit  that  the  Church  woul 
make  her  voice  of  warning  solemnly  heard ;  and  in  doing  so 
is  evtm  an  advantage,  and  not  a  loss,  that,  whilst  she  n'tnins  he 
IHiwtT   to  condemn  the  error,  she   lias   probaUy  uu  right,  ati 
therefore  no  re<]uirement,  to  proceed  against  the  persoa  nf 
ofTondcr. 

Onr  own  Articles  are  a  living  evidcnrc  of  surh  a  mode 
treating  error.  They  hafl  l>epn  rendered  necessarv  on  the  oi 
tide  by  the  wild  fancies  of  the  Anai>aptists  and  oUier  fknalif 
and  on  the  other  hy  the  corrupt  traditions  antl  usurping  arrogmnc 
of  the  Papacy.  They  were  calmly  and  cautiously  but  !fr)Iillj 
rriunctl  by  our  fathers  to  meet  the  new  fonns  of  error  with  whici 
th'-ir  genrratinn  was  threatened.  All  the  Creeds  of  the  Catbulifl 
Church  bpyond  the  &implp  Oiixnlogy  have  bad  in  turn  a 
origin.  Kvery  dogma  of  which  they  are  compounded  is 
battlefield  on  which  some  mighty  truth  was  defended, 
biirying-plare  of  some  slain  and  now  decomposing  heresy.  Al 
if  tl»'  like  dangers  Ijeset  us  we  must  find  our  safety  in  the  like 
eoiirwr.  New  criors  may  even  yet  require  new  Articles.  If  the 
nwvssity  should  arise,  it  must  be  by  the  new  definition  of  the  o!J 
Kaith — and  not  by  that  which  even  in  civil  matters  is  the  m»* 
dangerous  uf  all  incthuds  of  legislation,  namely.  Judge-made  Ul 
— that  we  must  confute  the  gainsayer  ami  silence  Uie  heretic 

Here,  then,  we  may  perhaps  discnvrr  In  what  alterations 
our  Ecclesiastical  Courts,  sr)  far  as  concerns  their  trrntment 
doctrine,  the  real  neeils  of  the  times  seem  to  jioiut.  Not  n-i 
laiuly  to  cU)thing  our  Judges  with  these  uncertain  and  dongrrtai 
powers,  tlie  pi»»sessioii  of  which  tliey  so  strongly  <lepremle,  b« 
to  any  change  which  may  define  more  exactly  what  their  ti 
province  is,  if  anywhere  it  has  been  left  doubtful.  One  pravisic 
nf  recent  legislation  we  think  there  is  which  nee<ls  such  revtsioi 
The  addition,  in  certain  cases,  of  the  two  AIetro]>o1itans  and 
tlu^  Bishop  of  Lomlon  to  the  Judicial  Committee  of  th<*  Privj 

Co 


Aids  to  Faith. 


\ 


Crtiincil,  before-  which  a|)pfn1«  from  the  Courts  of  Cantrrlmry 
ami  York  nre  heltl,  inteiffn-s  eiilirely  with  the  views  of  his  office 
which  are  ciifi)rw<l  in  this  juil^ment  by  the  Dean  of  tlip  Arches 
as  those  which  are  true  in  themselves  and  which  have  hern  tnid 
down  hy  the  Supreme  Tribunal  in  the  recent  Henth  ami  (lorlmm 
rases.  The  mixture  of  the  spiritunl  element  with  tlie  ti*m|MintI 
in  that  0)urt  pivcs  to  it  an  unfortunate  npjwiininc:<!  of  under- 
taking to  <lerid('  what  is  the  true  doctrine,  instead  of  merely 
g'lviug  a  ii*<ral  exposition  to  the  lanf^ua^  in  which  the  true 
iloftrim-  is  already  definc<I ;  and  this  apjiearan<-e,  unforlunnte  in 
even  a  strictly  ecclesiastical  Court,  is  absolutely  disastrous  in  thr 
Judicial  Committee,  which  is  not  an  erclesiasttral  tribunal,  but  a 
temporal  Court,  advising^  the  action  of  the  Sovereipn,  when 
appealed  to  as  in  the  well-known  *apjK'l  commc  d'ahus.*  us  the 
supreme  arbiter  untlor  (iod  in  anv  case  of  alk*jr<'d  injustice 
wrou^rhl  in  any  Court  affainst  the  »ubj«-t.  \VV  will  mit  slop  here 
tr)  inquin'  bv  what  legislation  tliis  anomaly  should  be  correcteil. 
>Ve  now  merely  call  attention  to  its  existence  as  directly  inilitatinjc; 
Of^inst  the  principle  laid  down  in  this  Judgment  ami  maintained 
as  true  by  ourselves. 

Mere,  then,  for  the  present  wc  leave  this  preai  mntter.  We 
sci*  upon  the  whole  many  grounds  for  rejoicing'  at  tlie  course  by 
which  it  has  Imvelled  to  its  present  jwisture.  For  there  are 
many  marks  that  now  —  as  so  ofti^n  Ijefore  in  the  Church's 
lUAtory  —  error  has  defeateil  itself.  We  rejoice  in  the  uii- 
ftmbif^ous  voice  it  has  called  forth  from  our  high  Errlrsiaj»- 
(icul  Court.  We  rejoice  in  the  tone  maintained  by  the  Convo- 
ration  of  Canterbury-,  in  the  utterance  of  idl  our  HSshnpK,  and  In 
the  echo  it  awoke  airionysl  tlie  cler(ry.  We  rejoice  in  the  calm, 
diRiit6ed  rebuke  adininisterwl  by  llie  expressive  silence  of  the 
hity  to  the  promulgers  of  this  new-fangtc<l  form  of  puny  unljelief. 
We  may  lastly  add  that  we  rejoice  in  tlic  literary  issues  of  tlie 
conflict ;  in  tlie  ex|Kisure  it  has  made  of  the  sliallow,  crude,  half- 
learneil  ignraorance  of  the  masters  of  tlie  new  movcmnit ;  ami  in 
the  emluriuK  additions  to  our  standanl  thftilopy  of  which  it  has 
been  the  cause.  And  for  ourselves,  we  rejoice  that  we  were 
nmnn^t  the  earliest  to  unmask  the  pretenders,  and  draw  down 
ui»on  our  head  the  honourable  distinction  of  tlieir  peculiar 
hostility. 


Abt. 


(    500    ) 


Art.  VII. — 1.  Niirndive  of  tlie  Rise  and  Proffrus  of  the  TiWpiny 
BrMiiim  m  Chitut.  Ry  Commaniler  Lindesay  Brine,  R.N., 
KK.G..S.     Londoa,  l«l';3. 

2,  FUy.  MoiUhs  on  the  Ynng-Uze.  Hy  Thomas  W.  Blakisino, 
InU-  Captnia  U«»val  Artillerv.      Londuii,  18tJ2. 

3,  NarrttHve  of  the  tVar  with  'China  in  1800.  By  LieuL-Colwttl 
G.  J.  WoliK-lcy.      London,  1862. 

4.  The  London  and  China  Tele^nwht  v.  4. 

5.  The  Church  Minion  Record.     Oct.  1862. 

hSi 


'; 


OUR  relations  with  China  have  not  for  a  lonjf  timr 
satisiai'tory.  War  after  war  has  hcen  Uynvtl  tipoa  u»  b 
Uir  bimil  <iI»tinH(-y  of  llip  Iinpcna)  (invrriiiinrnt ;  iiinl  now,  ihvtr 
Trie  11(1  ship,  if  great  rarr  anil  forrsiglit  Ix-  nfil  I'xiTcisrd,  may  ro»t 
ui  dearer  thaii  their  enmity.  They  arc,  wr  are  told^  in  trouble: 
thai  trouble  has  been  eaused  in  some  decree  l)y  oar  inititarr 
operations,  and  thiTofore  wf^  are  bound  In  hontmr  to  help  them 
uut  uf  tlieir  dtHicuItiis  ;  tlint  i.4  to  say^  tlirir  inu>rnul  dillii'ultin, 
for  It  lias  not  y<H  been  said  lliat  we  are  also  Uikwd  to  help  them 
lo  tight  the  Russians,  who  are  enevoarUinfj  so  rapidly  upon 
their  Dorthem  frontier.  One  of  their  internal  troubles,  in  dc: 
witli  which  our  Government  has  apparently  resolved  lo 
them,  is  th.!!  whirb  13  presented  by  tlie  Tnepinjy  rebels,  who  now 
hold,  u|)on  the  cstiinntt-  uf  Cuuimander  Brine  (cited  at  inure  length 
lieliiw),  30,000  ajuare  miles  uf  country,  ainl  whu  aemnling  ta 
Captain  Blakiston  arc  in  possession  of  the  half  of  each  uf  tlie 
provinces  of  Kiang-su  and  Che'-kinng,  a  district  as  fertile  [wrhaM 
as  any  in  China,  and  cstiniatinl  by  Sir  H.  Parkcs  at  BO.OllO 
8(|uare  miles,  and  having  formerly  a  population  of  70,000,0(X) 
souls.*  Tliis  resolution  has  already  led  to  military  opemtionsuf 
a  kind  doubly  distasteful  to  Uie  British  public,  inasmuch  as  lltey- 
were  carrie<l  on  by  a  combined  British  and  French  ■  "1  if 

not  actually  amounting  to  intervention  in  the  civil  (>  .,*  (»f 

the  ChincK',  must  certainly  appear  to  the  Oiinesc  in  tiiat  light. 

Tlie  new  policy  nUtch  we  lia\'e  adopted  deserves  mon-  ranrful 
iOnd  tle^pcr  consideration  than  wc  can  at  present  bestow  upon  i 
but  we  desire   to  call  attention  to  the  nature  and  hi»t*>r)'  of  tli 
Taeping  movement.    The  government  and  dynasty  nttacked  by  r 
arc  those  of  the  Manchu  Tartars,  who  coniiuered,  two  ! 
years    ago,  a  Chinese  dynasty  which  had   filled  the  lli. 
four   hundrcil    vuars.     The  ImiK^rinl   tniitps  amount   to   t*tMJ,(>(K 
men ,  and  at  least  one-fourth  of  every  gnrriKOu,  or  other  forneyj 
arc  Tartars,  better  paid,  armed,  and  disciplined  than  the 


BlskUt<»t,  p.  3J. 


■oldien ; 


China— the  Taeping  RfbeHion. 


501 


BolrltPTS ;  ami  occupving  in  Cbinese  cities  a  fcpontc  quartcr 
whirh  commands  iIk*  rt-sl  of  the  tuwn. 

The  (■ovemmcnt  is  carricil  an  ut  Pt-kui,  nnd  rccommemls  ilsclf 
to  the  iH-ople — so  far  as  their  actjuipsrt'nce  is  not  a  mere  iiie- 
rlinnicnl  habit — rhieflj  by  its  system  of  exaniinationi,  throu|!:h 
which  nil  honours,  pririlcgcs,  and  government  ofliccs  an*  made 
nttntnahle  by  those  whose  inlolligencc  ami  good  fortune  enable 
tiiom  III  pass  those  examinations  with  sucei-ss.  This  jmpular 
ri^ht  is  jealously  re^rded  l>v  the  natiun,  whieh  indignantly 
TCicnts  the  »alc  of  degrees  and  the  other  corruptiimt  tliat  have 
crept  into  the  system,  and  disturb  tlie  freeih»m  of  what  niigbt 
nimittt  he  called  the  Olj-mpic  games  of  China,  the  great  arena  nf 
iiatioitiil  ambition.  This  system  of  examination  not  only  brings 
tlic  jieoplr  til  look  upon  public  office  as  a  patrimony  in  whiL-h 
nil  loay  ho|>r  to  share,  but  it  serves  one  most  important  end  ot 
govcmment  in  a  country  of  such  enormous  extent,  by  indncing 
natives  <»f  nil  parts  of  the  empire  to  learn  the  written  language  ;  a 
most  important  Iwmd  of  union  between  people  whose  speech 
vjinVi  so  widely  in  tlie  dilTerent  provinces  that  a  native  of  the 
■oath  cannot  make  himself  underst^ioil  in  the  nnrtli.  It  must 
also  Jicrre,  by  confining  the  stmlies  of  the  educated  classes  to 
certain  books,  to  keep  their  thought*  from  running  in  new  and 
inconvenient  channels. 

The  machinery  of  Government  was  so  well  organised  by  tha 
second  Tartar  Emperor,  Kaug-hi,  of  whose  court  Father  Kipa 
haa  left  an  amusing  account,  tlial  his  suecessoni  fouml  no 
tlitTiculty  in  maintaining  peace,  and  the  population  became  sfi 
cxressivc  that  the  poKluce  of  the  land  was  bnrely  adequat**  to 
meet  their  wants;  but  ilie  Emperor  Ket-n-long,  who  dinl 
A.D.  170)'*,  thuugli  he  prrsidcil  river  the  empire  for  sixty  years 
with  much  eclat,  intrurluced  cxtravagimce  and  corruption  into 
the  govcmment,  and  paved  the  way  for  its  humiliation  and 
decay.  The  teat  of  a  Gorcrnmen^i  real  strength  is  the  degree 
in  which  it  can  command  the  obedience  of  the  people  under  eir- 
camitanccs  of  difliculty;  and  it  appears  that  during  the  last 
thirty  years  the  Tartar  Government  of  China  has  been  severely 
iriwl,  and  has  been  found  wanting.  Earthquake,  iaminc,  and 
pestilence  afllicted  various  produces  of  the  empire.  Misery  led 
to  riots,  and  rioters  were  visited  with  extreme  and  unjustifiable 
punishments.  Opium-smugglers  formeil  themselve-s  into  nume- 
rous and  powerful  anned  l>o<Iies,  aiul  defied  tlie  authority  of  the 
magistrates.  Then  came  the  stnigglc  with  the  English,  which 
exposed  the  inefliciency  of  the  Tartar  soldiery,  ami  the  useless- 
new  of  the  fortifications  which  the  nnwarlike  Chinese  liad  cou- 
sidereil  so  Btiung.     The  collection  of  the   indemnity  which  we 

exact 


China-^he  Tarpiriff  lieheflimi. 


rxricUMl  prosfinl  hnavily  upcin  thn  (loople,  while  it  made  them 
fitfl  tin-  liumiliatioii  »>f  tlif  Govi'rnmcnt ;  the  Cfwst  was  infpslw! 
Iiv  pirates,  aiul  Uie  prov  inces  were  torn  by  an  inttmntnBble  spriit 
of  ri-volts  which  the  tr(M>|w  were  unnblc  to  (|Uoll. 

The  two  mljan-nt  provincrs  of  Kwanjf-lun^  antl  Kwnn^'sl,. 
bc-twuttu  the  yc-ar»  of  1848  aud  1B52,  were  tlie  theatre  «f  c<m- 
slant  petty  fuuds  and  lucal  insurrections ;  '  all  which/  says  a 
Tartar  general,  in  reporting;  to  the  Kmperor,  '  arise  from  tJint 
rlnss  having  teen  thrmif/fi  the  circumstances  of  the  armi/  at  the  time 
barbarian  affairs  xcere  hcimf  triuisactcfi{i.  t:  at  tlie  time  of  tlip  war 
wilh  the  Kiiglish).  Formerly  they  ft-ared  tlie  troops  as  tigprs ; 
v»f  late  they  look  on  tliem  as  sheep.  Further,  of  ihr  wveml  ten» 
i>l  Uiifusands  of  armed  irregulars  who  were  disbanded  at  Uk' 
settlement  of  the  bnrlmrian  business,  very  few  returned  la  llieir 
origlitnl  orcu[Kition  ;  most  of  them  became  robbers.' 

In  tlie  midst  of  all  this  confusictn  broke  out,  in  llie  year  18! 
the  famous  Taepin^  reljellion,  whirh  is  to  this  day  mi-nnt-infj  th 
very  cxifltencR  of  the  cmpin*;  which  was  repreaentwl  to  us  ai 
one  time  as  afTordinf:;  so  bright  a  prospect  of  the  dilfiision  o! 
Oiristinnity  ;  and  which  has  latterly  been  spoken  of  as  the  vi 
cliiniLX  ami  jwrfeetion  of  wiekeilness,  ami  as  tlmt  which  wc 
bound  to  lend  our  active  ro-operatlon  to  crush  nml  ti>  destroy. 

In  t:udcavouring  to  form  n  fair  estimate  of  a  movement  of  which 
the  account*  have  br>rn  so  conflicting',  much  assistance  may  ba^ 
<lcrived  from  the  thoughtful  and  tcinporate  in vesli (ration  of  th 
history  and  nature  of  this  rebellion  contained  in  the  work  wUtc 
we  have  plac(Pil  at  the  head  of  the  jHvsent  article.  Cominamlr 
Urine,  who  has  just  rrlurnpil  from  a  four  viwrs'  service  in  (Tliinii, 
has  combined  for  our  information,  »'ith  much  care  ami  discrimi- 
naiion,  the  few  trustworthy  accounts  which  have  from  time  to 
time  Ijcen  given  of  the  rebels,  and  the  most  important  docu- 
ments Irom  which  their  sentiments  and  doctrines  ran  be  tramt^  ; 
and  he  reasons  upon  tliem  with  much  ability*.  Captain  Dlakixton 
has  likewise  given  n*  valuable  infomialion  ujion  the  same 
subject.  'I'he  main  object,  however,  of  his  book  is  to  tell  us — 
and  he  do*>s  so  very  pleasantly — of  his  adventurous  voyage  up 
tlic  great  river  "^'ang-tszc,  the  high-road  of  China,  to  a  distanra; 
of  no  less  than  1H(H)  miles  from  tlie  sea ;  of  the  new  and  strange 
lands  thmugh  wliich  it  flows,  tlieir  beautiful  scenery,  tlieir  j>eopl' 
cliraate,  and  rich  variety  of  produce. 

To  return,  then,  to  the  great  Taeping  rebellion.     Tills  ma 
nient  appears  to  ba\*e  originAtr<l  in  the  thoughts,  sensations,  *ni 
impuliii's  of  a  single  individnal,  of  whom,  then-fore,  it  is  occes* 
sary  to  give  (uniler  tlic  guidance  of  Commander  Brine)  on  accottot 
somewhat  in  detail. 


I 


h      , 

I 


Ij^ij 


Chiiui'~4hc  7\xfljn'nff  liebeliion. 


503 


In  A  kamlilc  villa^.  thirty  miles  from  the  city  of  Cnnt^tn, 
dwfit  a  vc4tci7ilil»!  innru  liunrst  tind  stmifflitrorwaixi  in  bis 
(U'liiiii^rs,  tlir  lieridinan  or  cltlf-r  uf  tlit*  village,  wim  sf'ttlc-^l  tlin 
Jisjiutus  of  it*  iiiliatiitants  with  each  oilier  or  wilh  iieiglilnmriug' 
villa<jiMi;,  nutl  was  ciiari^<><l  wilb  tlic  care  of  Uieir  anccislral 
fields.  He  was  pnor,  like  his  neighbours,  and  bis  faniilv 
obt.-iinctl  their  livrlihocMl  by  cultivating  a  lew  riccficlds  and 
rearing  pigs  and  pouhry. 

*  To  him,  in  thu  yuar  1813,'  aayji  Cominoinlcr  Brine,*  *  was  hem 
Hiiii>t-ttiu-lsucn.  tho  third  sun  and  fourth  child.  It  appoara  thjkt  fi-onti 
Iho  very  lxtj;inniiig  bo  showwi  himwlf  to  ho  of  a  «t«rlioiw  nature,  and 
cviiKJ^l  inure  than  avemgo  abilities.  Ho  vtna  notit  Ui  Hcbou]  wht^'U 
BOTOD  ycftTH  eld  :  glowing  EKouunte  arc  given  of  biH  rapid  progress  iu 
has  stndieK,  and  his  romorkablo  aptitndofor  committing  to  nteinory  thti 
Cblnesp  chisnics.  As,  bnwever,  bo  evontiially  iaibd  ho  Hi^jiially  in 
ilia  utt<,-ii)])ts  tij  obtain  bi»)  Iniebclor'a  degree — a  (jroat  deal  must  bo  pot 
down  to  tbu  purtialily  uf  his  friend  Hung-jtu.  Hlill  it  ia  oriduat  that 
in  jMiiiit  of  int<;lloct  bo  ^lufHl  lintt  in  his  onTi  villot^e^ 

'His  aged  father,  in  talltiug  witli  }uh  friends,  w&s  particolarly  fond 
of  dwelling  on  the  subject  of  tiie  Ittlents  of  liis  ynuiigest  wm.  Ilia 
ftu?e  hriglitimtid  wlieneTcir  ho  hc^inl  any  mip  Rponk  in  hia  son's  pmiM' ; 
and  Oiis  coniinendation  of  hi^c  itim  was  inducement  enongb  for  him  to 
invite  tbc  sjKuiker  to  the  family  liall  to  jiartako  of  taa,  or  a  bowl  of 
riec,  and  gmtity  tho  father  by  continuing  thia  his  favonnto  topic  of 
diaoonrao. 

'  The  poverty  of  Sin-tstiea's  family  was  in  great  meaenre  the  canse 
of  biti  vnint  uf  literary  micccBfi.  Although  by  every  innuiH  in  tht^ir 
jmwer,  aikd  viith  tiic  aid  of  the  slight  assistaucG  thiU  conld  be  rendered 
by  &ieiidi4r  they  endcavoiu'cd  to  improve  his  cliancea  of  SDCocBtftilJ 
cuui{Jutiliau  by  suudiiig  him  to  more  dielaut  ami  hotter  achmils ;  >'ot 
at  biHt  they  were  furced  to  take  bim  fh)ni  liis  Btudies  that  bo  might 
amist  in  the  provision  for  tlieir  daily  want£,  and  to  this  end,  whin 
airivcd  at  the  age  uf  sixteen,  tbc  most  important  period  of  bi)>  stadunt 
lifti,  hi>  waa  tibligud  to  pass  his  time  in  field  labour,  or  iu  leoiUng  tbu 
oxen  to  graze . 

'  TbiB  occnpfitinn  did  not  agree  with  the  bent  of  Sin-tenenV  mind, 
and  evcutmdly  the  village  pc-ttplo  gave  htm  tho  appointxnont  of  tcaelicr 
in  the  sehool.  This  gave  him  means  for  continuing  his  stndics,  and 
the  ramnneration  fur  hia  work,  small  as  it  waA,  enabled  bim  to  bo 
above  absoliitu  want. 

'  Unng-siu-tsucn  himeclf  chose  Bia-tsaen  as  his  litcnury  name,  by 
tiiis  mcanB  marking  his  individimlity  in  the  family  name  Hang.  8in- 
Isnen  means  "  Elegant  and  Porfoct."  In  tho  examinations  held  in  tho 
district  city  bo  took  a  high  place,  but  ho  waa  never  able  to  gut  hia 


*  Commander  Brine  siatrs  that  hia  aceoiiaioriI«ng-«u-MHen  isingreatineasare 
iJcrivtH]  rmin  one  wliicti  wa*  tlrawii  u\t  hy  Mr.  Ilnatbrrfc,  a  tnltrionary  (nov  dnd), 
wlio  took  gn-al  j^iiis  to  iiifonti  liimtclf  upon  ibr  Hubjirct. 

bachelor's 


5()4 


China — th»t 


RebcUion. 


baeholor'a  dcgrtMi,  for  wliioli  pnrpow  bo  luul  to  attend  tbe  esunuui- 
tions  »t  OoDton,  which  city,  from  thie  cinmmstiuioc^  most  Iulto  been 
tlio  chief  city  of  hift  (k-piu-tment  Aft  wull  ui  thiU  of  tlio  pruviiiLC.    Attoot 
Uiuyoar  1833  bo  neihxl  Cantoo,  in  onlt-r  to  hu  [>rc«t:ut  at  the  pablie 
com]iotitirc  trial.     ThJH  wiik  iiubsoqutmt  to  prcriona  fiulnres.     Hm 
he  mut  with  a  man  wlio,  from  tlio  description,  tunat  havo  been  a  Pni- 
leKtiuit  missionary.     Chi  the  following  day  ho  mot  twu  mou,  nnu  of  | 
^-bom  bad  ill  bis  puHsession  a  parcel  of  books,  tho  whole  of  which  bo 
gnvo  to  lltm^-sia-taaon.     Tho  work  consigtod  of  uino  small  toIuumm^ 
wid    was  i!utillf<l  "  Good  Words  exJiortiug  the  Age."      Tho  donor 
proved  to  bo  a  luttivo  convert^  who  wis  unipluyL-u  in  diBtribtitiiig 
tracts.     Thu  anthor  of  theso  tracts  wa^  a  mau  muuod  L&aug-Afitb,  a 
oouvurt  of  Dr.  Milno'd  at  tliu  cx)Uogu  at  Mabioe4v.     Lohd^  tmbsojuuiitlj 
rctnmod   to   China   (his   oativc    country  i,   and    Ihcro   Dr.  Hot 
finding  that  ho  was  anxiona  to  become  a  distributor  of  the  G< 
orxluiued  hiiu  for  that  pur{iut*e.     Dr.  ^lorritton    stated  tliat  in 
JjooDg-Afah  bwl  printed  nine  tnu'ta,  of  about  fifty  {Mgcs  each,  com- 
potted  by  bimsoU^  and  inton^pcrsod  with  possogea  of  sacred  Scriutan. 
Tlio  titlo  of  tlio  wbolo  was  "  Kncu-ahi-luaug-yon  "  (Good  Words  oi-l 
horting  Uin  Agii).      ThfiHu  boukH   contain  a  good  number  of  wbnloj 
chapters  of  tho  Hiblc,  according  to  tho  fennslatiou  of  Dr.  MorrisoOf , 
many  cfisays  on  important  Kubjocts  from  eiuglo  texts,  and  simdty  mU- 
csQeuHnnw  elatcmenle  fuuudL:d  on  Soriptnre.' 

Dr.  Moirison's  translation  of  the  Bible,  though  most  crcditaU«j 
to  that  gcDtlcnian  at  the  time  when  it  was  rxfcuted^  hat  bwa 
found  by  iniMlcrn  SL-bolars  to  abuitml  in  the  gra^'cst  rm>r»,  and, 
in  fact,  is  ui)  luiifj^r  aetivtrly  ciriulnte^l  l>y  tlu^  missionaries ;  and 
we  know  upon  the  autliority  of  Dr.  Mcdburat,  who  has  erilirally 
examined  the  'Good  Words  exhorting  tbe  Ap*,'  that,  tbruugbl 
defects  in  enrly  education,  Lcnng  A  Tab's  stvic  is  diffuse  and  his  I 
sentences  Ul-constjucled.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  proper  use  and  position  of  Chinese  particles,  and  t«  have 
taken  not  the  slightest  care  to  construct  his  sentences  in  an 
idiutnatic  manner.  To  a  well-educated  Chinese  his  productinasj 
could  not  be  acceptable;  on  every  page,  and  almost  in  e\TTy 
line,  something  occurs  oficnsive  to  good  sense  and  philological  j 
propriety.  So  that,  ujKin  the  whole,  considering  tlie  necrssitv  i 
of  using  the  clearest  aiul  most  precise  I.inguaji^e  for  ronvevingi 
Clirtstian  trutli,  it  is  tlifiicuU  to  conceive  a  mon>  unsuitable,  or, 
in  fact,  a  more  dangerous,  introduction  to  (Ibristian  doctrine 
than  that  whie-b  thns  presented  itself  to  Hung-siu-tsuen,  and  h 
is  deeply  to  be  regretted  that  a  person  so  unfit  as  Lcang'  Abb^^ 
was  ever  suffered  to  assume  the  pnrt  of  commentator.  Hiin^-iia-^H 
tsuen,  ujK)!)  bis  return  home,  Unik  lliese  tracts  with  him,  nnd,  '' 
not  dccmin-;  them  of  much  im]K)rtnitce,  he  simply,  as  he  has 
since  asserted,  glanced  at  tbcir  contents,  and  put  them  aside    It^ 


China—ihe  Taeping  ReleUion.  505 

is  plain,  however,  that  he  had  done  somewhat  more.  In  1837 
he  again  went  up  for  examination  at  Canton,  and  again  failed. 
Broken  down  in  health  and  spirits,  he  returned  home  to  his 
village,  and  was,  through  ilhiess,  confined  for  some  time  to  his 
bed.  At  this  time  he  was  twenty-three  years  of  age.  Strange 
visions  appear  to  have  now  filled  his  mind. 

*  In  one  of  his  Tisiona  he  imagined  himself  to  be  carried  awaj  in  a 
sedan-chair  by  a  number  of  men  playing  musical  instnunents,  and, 
after  visiting  bright  and  luminous  places,  and  having  all  his  impurities 
washed  away,  he  entered,  in  company  with  a  number  of  virtuous,  aged, 
and  venerable  men,  into  a  large  hall,  the  beauty  and  splendour  of 
which  were  beyond  description.  A  man,  venerable  from  his  years, 
and  dressed  in  a  black  robe,  was  sitting  in  an  imposing  attitude,  in 
the  highest  place.  As  soon  as  ho  observed  Siu-tsuen  he  began  to 
shed  tears,  and  said :  "  AU  human  beings  in  the  world  are  produced 
and  sustained  by  me  ;  they  eat  my  food  and  wear  my  clothing,  but  not 
a  single  one  among  them  has  a  heart  to  remember  and  venerate  me  ; 
what  is,  however,  stiU  worse,  they  take  my  gifts,  and  therewith  wor- 
ship demons ;  they  rebel  against  me  and  arouse  my  anger.  Do  thou 
not  imitate  them  [ "  Thereupon  he  gave  Siu-tsuen  a  sword,  com- 
manding him  to  exterminate  the  demons,  but  to  spare  his  brothers 
and  sisters  ;  a  seal,  by  which  he  would  overcome  evil  spirits  ;  and  a 
yellow  fruit,  which  Siu-tsuen  found  sweet  to  the  taste.  He  then  gives 
him  charge  to  do  the  work  of  bringing  round  the  perverse  ;  and  taking 
him  out,  told  him  to  look  and  behold  the  pervcrseness  of  the  people 
npon  euth. 

'  Siu-tsuen  looked  and  saw  such  a  degree  of  depravity  and  vice  that 
his  eyes  could  not  endure  the  sight  nor  his  month  express  their  deeds. 
Ha  then  awoke  from  his  trance,  but  being  still  partially  under  its  in- 
fluence, he  put  on  his  clothes,  left  his  bedroom,  went  into  the  presence 
of  his  father,  and  making  a  low  bow,  said :  "  The  venerable  old  man 
above  has  commanded  tb^  all  men  shall  turn  to  me,  and  all  treasures 
flow  to  me." 

'  When  his  father  saw  him  come  out,  and  h^ird  him  speak  in  this 
manner,  he  did  not  know  what  to  think,  feeling  at  once  joy  and  fear. 
The  sickness  and  visions  of  Siu-tsuen  continued  about  forty  days,  and 
in  these  visions  ho  often  saw  a  man  of  middle  age,  whom  he  called 
hia  Elder  Brother,  who  instructed  him  how  to  act,  accompanied  him 
in  his  wanderings  to  the  uttermost  regions  in  search  of  evil  spirits, 
and  assisted  him  in  slaying  and  ostemunating  them.  Siu-tsuen  during 
his  sickness,  when  his  mind  was  wandering,  often  used  to  run  about 
his  room  leaping  and  Qghting  liko  a  soldier  engaged  in  battle.  His 
tmnstant  ciy  was,  "  Taan-jan,  tsan-jan,  tsan-ah,  tsan-ab  I  *'  Slay  the 
demons  1  &c.,  &c. 

*His  father  felt  very  anxious  about  the  state  of  his  mind,  and 
ascribed  this  their  present  misfortune  to  the  &ult  of  the  geomancer 
in  selecting  an  unlucky  spot  of  ground  for  the  burial  of  their  forc- 
&thers.    He  therefore  invited  some  magicians,  in  order  that  by  their 

secret 


bOG 


China— the  Taeiiing  ItebeHion. 


aocret  art  Ihny  tniglitilrivc  ixvmy  tho  ovil  npirite;  bnt  Siti-tsnfu  »iil, 
"  How  could  tlieiw  imps  diuc  to  oppoee  mo  i^  I  mxuA  elay  them  I  I 
iiiiwi  uLiy  tlioiii  I     M«uy,  many,  caiioot  reeirt  me." ' 

'  AfkT  he  hfwl  fatigued  hirasolf  liy  Bghting,  jnmjiing  nboul,  singing, 
and  L'shortiug,  lie  lay  down  again  upon  his  bed.  When  he  wm  udoqi 
nuuiy  jiorsous  nuro  iicLnii>tij]afi1  to  come  and  lotiV  nt  liim,  and  be  wu 
soon  Iniim-ti  in  the  whole  iliKtrict  tin  "  tho  Madnmn."  Hu  often  asid  tliat 
be  WW  diily  appointed  Emperor  of  China,  and  wua  hi^j  gntifiod 
when  any  uue  called  bim  hy  tbikt  name.* 

{''vfiitually  he  regained  his  health,  ami  he  related  to  lus  friends 
without  reserve  all  tlxat  he  r<mld  rememlwr  of  his  extraordinary 
visions.  He  rcmnincd  a  poor  schoolmaster,  and  continued  tn 
be  *  phicked  *  in  the  desperate  stnig(;lc  fur  tho  bachelor's  deprce. 
One  day  his  bundle  of  tracts  liajmened  to  excite  the  attcntitm  of 
a  brother  schuolmustor,  name<l  I.r,  who,  after  perusing  tliem, 
told  hiin  tliat  they  were  very  extraordinary  ivriting^s,  and  differed 
considerably  from  Chinese  books.  L'i»on  this  Hunfr-siu-tsucn, 
for  the  first  time,  carefully  read  tliem,  and  was  astnnislicd  to 
find  tluit  they  supplied  a  key  lo  his  own  visions. 

'lie  DOW  understood  the  Tonerablo  old  man  who  mt  upon  the 
bigliiVit  pW-rc,  and  whom  nil  men  ought  to  n'ondiip,  to  bo  God,  the 
Heavunly  Father;  and  the  man  of  middlo  age,  who  bad  instmcttd 
him,  and  assietod  him  in  exterminating  tho  demons,  to  be  Josus,  thr 
Saviour  of  thu  world.  Riu-ttnien  felt  ua  if  nwnkiag  from  a  long  druam. 
lie  rejoiced  to  have  fonnd  in  reality  a  way  to  Hfuivcn,  and  sure  bojir 
of  everlasting  life  and  happiness.  Learning  from  tbo  books  tbo 
neeuisfiity  i>f  being  hnptieod,  Sni-tauon  and  Li,  aceonliug  to  Qm  manner 
dow^rilK^l  in  tlic*  hnolts,  and  as  far  as  they  undorstood  the  lito,  now 
administered  baptism  tu  thomKelves. 

■  ASloT  this  thoy  disenrdcd  their  idolK,  and  removed  the  tablet  of 
CenfucitiH  that  woo  plotted  in  the  school -room.' 

In  consequence  of  the  removal  of  tlie  tablet  of  Confucius  from 
the  school-room,  and  the  general  renunciation  of  the  religion  of 
the  people,  Hung-siu-tsuen  lost  his  place  as  a  teacher.  He 
appears  to  have  made  two  or  three  converts  to  his  opinions  in 
bis  own  district,  who  afterwards  aceompanieil  him  ti>  the  nrigli- 
bt>uriiig  province  of  Kwang-si,  where  the  whole  party  remained 
for  some  months,  and  made  above  a  bundrerl  convert*.  He  then 
returned  home,  l>ut  one  of  his  disciples,  named  Fung-jun-san. 
chose  to  remain  beliind  for  several  years,  mahin|r  numcmus 
Cfmverts.  Tliese  soon  began  t<i  meet  together  f<tr  religious  pur- 
poses, and  became  known  as  the  *  Congregation  nf  tlie  Wor- 
shippers of  God.' 

1  lung-siu-isuen  .ip|>earfl,  on  returning  home,  to  have  obtained 
some  emptoymeni  as  a  teacher,  notwithstanding  his  heterodoxy 

hit 


I 
I 


China — tha  Taeping  RehcUiotu 


507 


Wc   is  stated  to  have  bc^n  nt   this  time  to  give  voDt  to  his 
batreil  ngaiiist  tlie  Tartar  dviuisty  bjr  which  ChiiiA  is  gijvrnied. 

1  Living  heiinl,   tlirouo^U  a  niiin  lately  retunied  from  Caiitun, 
that  a  fitreign  missicirviry  wns  jnraching  in  iJiut  city,  Hung-siu- 
tsuen  and   one  of  his  converts,  as  soon  as  their  scanty  means 
would  permit,  repaired  to  Canton,  and  went  to  the  bouse  t>r  the 
niLSsioiuiry  in  question — an  Aincricnn  Baptist,  the  Rev.  Issachar 
J.  R<)bprts — desiring  U^  be  taught  the  Christian  religion.    Hung- 
siu-tsuen's  assnciat«;  soon   retunii-d   home,    but  he  himself  r«n- 
tinuctl  nt  the  Mission  two  months  or  more,  during  wliieh  time, 
according  to  Mr.  Roberts's  account,  '  he  studic<)  the  Scriptures 
and    receive<l    instruction,    whilst    he    maintained   u    blamolcsi 
deportment.      He  prcsentetl  a  pa]>rr  writu-n  by  himself,  giving  a 
minute  account  of  having  received    the  Ixiok  of  **  (jiMid    Words 
exluirtiug  the   Age" — of   liis  having    be«»    tJiken  siek,  during 
which   time  be   imagined    that  he  saw  a  vision,  the  details  of  i 
which  he  gave,  and  which  he  said  i*i>n(irmcd  bim  in  the  belief  1 
of  wliat  he  read  in  the  bonlc   ....  He  requested  to  \v  ImptiM-d, 
hut  be  left  Kwaug-sl  before  we  were  fully  satisfied  of  his  fitness.* 
Here    was  a  man   really   desirous  of    jnsliuction,    euilued    with 
singular  capacity  for  moving  his  fellow-men — one  who,  in  the 
hands  of  a  discci'ning  teacher,  might  have  Income  a  mighty  instru- 
ment of  good  ;  for  (as  hiu  been  justly  remarked  by  one  who  has 
xingruilgingly  devoted  his  fine  talents  to  siiwing  the  gixnl  seed — 
tlie  Rev.   Dr.  Ouff)  it    has    happeneil   again    and   agiiiu   in   the 
ICast,  that  a  man  of  great  mental  powers  has  f.'iven  an  impulse  to, 
his  time,  and,  within  the  compass  of  a  single  life,  has  (oundetl  a 
religion  or  on  empire.      liut  die  stay  of  Hung-siu-tsuen  al  L'onton 
was  »hort«*ncd  through  the  jealousy  of  two  of  Mr.  Rolx'rts's  as- 
sistants,  who  persuaded  htm    to   apply   to   that  gentleman  for 
pecuniary  assistance — a  species  of  demand  which  Protestant  mis- 
sionaries,   with  goml  reason,    look  upon   with    suspicion.      His 
baptism   was   indefinitely  postponed,  and  in  June,  1847,  he  left, 
Canum,  where  he  had  no  me-ans  nf  supp*»rting  himself,    Rcpiiirin^' 
to    the    Kwang-si    pntvinre,    he    found    the     Sociely    of     Cii«l- 
worshippers  prospering  under  his  friemi,  Fung-yun-san.     They 
received    him   as  their  leader,  and    their  numbers  rapidly  in- 
creased.    Their  forms  of  worship  were  vague.      Above  all  things 
ibey  insisted  on  the  deijtructicui  of  idols. 

*  When  the  idola,*  onys  !)f  r.  I  famlierg,  ■  luul  been  token  an-ay,  Himg-stn- 
tAuen  nt  fin^t  used  to  place  the  written  nomo  of  (iud  in  their  steiul,  and 
even  usttd  iiicani^o-BHcke  and  gold  paper  ofl  a  jMirt  of  tbo  sorrico.  But 
iuta  few  mnnUin,  tluiUng  that  ihiit  wan  wroug,  hu  alHiliHlttd  it. 
lliH  gtcpmothcr  decl(ire<l,  hnwcvor.tbat  it  was  a  grcnt  pitv  that  ho  hod 
taken  awuy  tlio  unmo  of  God  from  tho  Wall,  for  daring  that  tiuo  tliey 


50g 


China — 1/'«  Ta^nng  RehtUion, 


bful  been  nMn  to  oilil  n  fov  fielilfl  to  tbeir  estnte,  ivhich  nho  ennsidorsd 
Afl  a  HpociiU,  blefiung  and  sign  of  divine  faTonr.  \Vlien  tho  congregft- 
tiiiu  in  Kvrau^'-si  asaomblod  together  for  roligioup  worship,  inalfi  and 
foniale  wimliipiioTB  hat\  tluiir  Hettta  eeparatod  from  lai^U  titliur.  It  ma 
ctuttonmry  to  praise  God  by  the  singiDg  of  a  liymn,  ui  luldrcss  waa 
dolivorud  on  citbor  tlio  morcy  of  (}od  or  tlio  merit*  of  Christ,  iiad  tho 
people  vtetii  exliurtiMl  to  rvprut  uf  tUcir  aiiis,  to  iibstsiu  froui  idolatry, 
and  to  wsrvo  God  with  rincerity  of  heart,  ^Vhcn  wiy  profoaaod  to 
believe  in  the  doctrine,  nnd  oxprefificd  a  desire  to  bo  admitted  mombon 
i)f  the  congregation,  the  rite  of  bitptism  vras  perforioL-d  iu  iho  fnUowtng 
manner,  withont  reference  to  nny  longer  or  shorter  term  of  prepara- 
tion or  preriona  instmction.  Two  burning  lampa  and  three  cnpa  of 
ten  were  pLiccd  on  a  table,  probably  to  snit  the  sensnul  apprefaennoa 
of  the  Cbinoiic.  A  writtftn  confotuion  uf  RinH,  containing  the  naiws 
of  the  diHcrent  ouiilidates  for  baptisin,  was  repeated  by  tbom,  and 
aflerwBi-da  burnt,  by  wbioh  procedure  the  presenting  of  the  eonfaagoo 
to  God  wna  Kymbolizod.  Tho  qucutioii  vru»  tbou  uskcd  if  they  pro* 
mised  "  not  to  worship  ovil  spirits,  noi-  to  practieo  evil  things,  but  ta 
keep  the  benvonly  oomoiandments  ?  "  Ailer  this  nonftiGeinu  and  prn- 
iiiiiw  they  knelt  down,  and  from  a  largo  basin  of  clear  wator  a  copflil 
was  poured  over  the  head  of  every  one,  with  the  words,  "  Parifieatioti 
from  oU  former  nuo,  putting  off  tlio  old,  uid  rcgeniirotiuu."  Up«iD 
rising  again  they  iraed  to  drink  of  tho  tea,  nitd  generally  enrb  cooTcrt 
trashed  his  chest  and  the  region  of  his  heart  with  water,  to  eignify  the 
inner  cleansing  of  their  bci)Tts.  It  was  also  euKtomary  t»  perfonn 
private  ablutions  in  the  rivers,  accompanied  by  coDiousiea  of  ains,and 
prayer  for  forgiveness.  Those  who  had  been  baptised  now  reoaimd 
ihu  different  forms  of  prayer  to  \*q  used  morning  and  evening,  or 

before  meals On  tbe  celebration  of  festivals,  its,  for  instamw, 

at  a  marriage,  a  bnriitl,  or  at  the  new  year,  animals  were  oSbrcd  in 
sacrifioo,  and  afterwords  conttamod  by  those  prufivut  at  the  ceremony. 

When  they  engftgert  in  prayer  they  used  to  kneel  down  all 

ill  one  diroction,  toward  tho  side  of  the  house  whonoo  tbe  Ught  entered, 
and  clofdng  their  eyes,  one  spoke  tho  prayei'  in  the  name  i^  tlio  whole 
OBSombiy.'  * 

A  little  later  the  Goil-worshippors  c-ummeiieed  ileslniytng  thr 
idols  and  interfering  with  the  woriihip  of  thclj  DeighbnurK 
Fung-yun-san  and  another  of  the  leaders  were  seized  anil  com- 
mitted to  prison  upon  a  charge  uf  rebelling  against  tbe  authuriticB. 
Iluiig-siu-tsuen  vnJnly  repaired  to  Canton  to  pctilioti  lor  ilicir 
release :  Fung-yun-san,  however,  was  sent  home  to  his  own 
villige  nnti  set  at  liberty  after  he  had  given  svcuriUes  nut  td 
rotuni,  his  companion  having  died  in  prison. 

HuDg-siu-tsucn  remained  quietly  at  home  during;  srrrn 
months,  assisting-  his  elder  brothers  in  leading  the  butralucs  to  the 
hills  to  graxe;  frequently  communing  with  Fung-jun-son,  whine 


% 


•The  TaepitiK  Kelntllioa.' p.  8l,iKite- 


vU1«ge 


China — tite  Tofpint;  RehfUioK. 


509 


village  was  riose  by,  fwd  unfoMing^  his  relipous  views  tn  tbc 
jouths  who  !e(l  their  oxen  to  the  common  pasture.  The  two 
friends  then  set  out  toother  in  1840,  aiitl  rejoined  the  Goil- 
worshippers  in  the  provinee  of  Kwnng-sl  ;  a  collection  having 
l)eeii  made  in  their  own  district  to  meet  the  expenses  of  their 
journey.  Ourinp  the  alisence  of  tlicir  leaders  sutme  of  the  God- 
worshippers  had  experienred  a  I'cmarkable  scries  of  ecstatic  fils 
or  trances,  closely  resembling  the  seizures  which  hare  occurrwl 
among  ipnoiant  and  excitable  people  in  other  parts  of  the  world. 
One  p(jor  man  in  particular,  named  Vang,  was  subject  to  such 
tninces,  in  which  he  was  in  the  }ial)tt  of  speaking  in  the  name  of 
God  the  Father,  and  in  a  solemn  and  awivinspiring  manner 
reproved  othrrs  for  their  sins,  often  iwinting  out  individuals,  and 
exposing  their  evil  actions.  He  was  also  said  to  have  the  gift  of 
caring  sickness  by  intercessioiu  Yang  conreive<i  himself  to  bo 
under  the  imini*<Uale  direction  of  God  tlie  Father,  in  whose  name 
he  sj>oke,  and  Slau,  another  of  the  God-worshipjiers,  sp€)he  In  the 
name  of '  Jesus,  the  Kldcr  Brother,'  and,  as  has  hAp|H-ncd  fre<|uent]y 
before,  the  supposed  revelations  were  utierctl  in  the  first  ]>eniun, 
ss  if  emanating  from  tlie  Divine  Jtcing  by  whose  presence  the 
man  was  for  the  time  possessed  ;  not  as  if  the  uttercr  meant  to 
claim  for  himself  any  share  in  the  Divine  nature.  The  latter 
intcrpn-tiitinn  was  enoneously  put  by  many  ICurojieans  upon 
the  declarations  of  the  Go<l -worshippers.  Hung-siu*tsuen  diil 
not  confirm  with  his  authority  all  the  utterances  made  at  these 
lT*'ivals,  but  d(Tlared  that  the  woixls  of  iljosc  mo^rd  were 
portly  true  and  partly  false^  and  that  some  were  from  llie  devil, 
ami  some  were  from  God.  He  appears  to  have  placed  implicit 
ronfidcncc  in  the  revelations  ol  Vang  and  of  Siau.  Hung- 
siu-tsuen  was  now  austere  and  reserved  in  his  manners,  strict 
in  his  moral  Ijehaviour,  and  severe  upon  the  shortcomings  of 
his  followers,  who  submittal  implicitly  to  his  dictates,  although 
he  had  been  absent  when  tlie  congregation  of  G(Kl-worshini>ers 
was  formed,  ami  also  when  the  ecstasies,  or  revivals,  first  took 
place  among  them. 

Up  to  this  jK>int,  however  we  ta^y  lament  the  ignorance  and 
the  mistakes  of  these  iieople,  the  general  tendency  of  tlic  move- 
ment seems  to  have  been  good,  and  the  objects  of  Mung-siu- 
tsuen  laudable.  To  awaken  the  jMtipIi-  from  the  miserable  torpid 
idolatry  of  Buddhism,  and  to  open  to  them  even  a  glimpse 
of  tlie  Divine  nature  and  of  Cliristian  morality,  was  surely  a 
great  and  noble  design,  however  blind  the  leader  may  have  been 
to  the  Cardinal  tniths  of  Christianity  which  he  had  <lesired,  hut 
had  not  l>ecn  |iermitted,  to  know.  Hut  the  God-worshippers,  nj 
we  liavc  seen,  sovn  became  suspected  by  the  outhortties,  and  in 

the 


China — t/u 


tlic  end  they  liccamc  idontifipd  with  local  pArties,  U  msT 
nliniMt  be  said  tliat  'rebellion  lay  in  Uicir  wnv,  ami  ihev  fnutul 
it.'  Indeed,  it  is  probable  tltat  the  thought  vi  it  h.id  long  beea 
familiar  to  the  minds  of  the  chiefs,  who  couhl  not  hope  to  br 
allowed  b^"  tlie  Tartar  Government  to  rlestroy  the  temples  ami 
idols,  and  to  subvert  the  religious  bvlJi^f  and  mstitutioRB  oT  the 
nation.  Thero  is  reason  tu  tltink  tluit  Hong-siu-tsuen  had 
studied  military  tactics,  with  a  view  to  their  practical  applica- 
lion ;  ami  one  of  his  comrades,  a  disappointnl  scholar  like  him* 
self,  takes  credit  in  liis  conft'ssiou  (made  under  torture  when  a 
prisoner  of  tlie  Iinpi'riali&ts)  forhavinj;  instructed  Hunj^-siu-tsurn, 
nftertlie  n-Iiellion  broke  out,  in  tactics;  on  which  he  liad  himself 
rend  many  treatises  wliile  he  was  a  priest. 

'Flic  immediate  cause   of  the  outbreak  is   stated    in   sev^nl 
dinVrent  ways.      It  is  said  that  a  yoiuijc  l»elievcT  and  iconoclast, 
liein^  Uirown  into  prison  at  the   inslauco  uf  a  certain  K^^duatr, 
who  was  the  delerniine<l  enemy  of  the  God-worsluppers^  j»erisl»fil 
through   want  and  ill-tieatinent.     It  appears,  however,  thatibn. 
province  of  Kwang-si  contained  two  hostile  races  of  inbahitauU' 
— the  <dder  dwellers  in  the  land,  calletl  the  Puntts,  and  those' 
who  had  more  recently  settled   in    it,  called   the  Hakkas.     The* 
God-worshippers  were    chiefly  coimecletl   with   the  latter,  wliu,^ 
liein^  in  flifFicultles,  sou^lit  their  protection,  and  obiaintHi  il  h\ , 
Conforming   to   their   worship.      The   Ooil-worshippei-s    haviai;J 
become  involvol  in  some  disturbances,  the  magistrates  attempted] 
to  seixe  Hung-siu-t»ucn  and   I'unjf-yun-san  ;  their   own  peopJ^j 
came  to    dte  rescue,  and  the  rebellion  commenred.      I  Iunp-siu-1 
tsuen  summom^l  the  Giid-wor&hippers  to  unite  lopether.     They 
liad  already   bc/(un  to  convert   tbejr  property  into  money,  and 
to  deliver  the  proceetis    into   a  common  treasury,   whence   die 
w.ints  of  all  were  supplied:  a  principle  which  has  been  adhered, 
til  tliToughouL     Old  ami  young,  rich  and  poor,  nl)  the  membenJ 
of  the  congre^^ation,  cami;  with  their  families  tn  join  his  banner, 
which  soon  attracted  to  it,  in  addition,  such  people  as  thosp  who 
were  fain,  of  old,  to  re*)rt  to  the  cave  of  Adullam. 

The  rel>pis   in   the    first    instance    (about  the  end    of    1850) 
seized  an  ojiuleut  market-town,  whose  shops  suppllnl  their  wants,] 
anil  whose  stionj^  situation  (nearly  surrounded  by  a  river)  enabledl 
tliem  to  make  a  stand.     They  next  proceeded  to  lake  pOKSPSsiou  of 
Tai-tsun,  a  large  village,  where  they  found  abundant  priiviaiom.] 
Tlwy  dcscrteil  their  first  (|uartcrs,  upon  which  the  Imperialist 
vented  their  rage,  burning  the  shops,  and  plundering  whaterci 
they  could   fmd,  under  the  sup{io<iiti(m  lliut  the  inh.ibitnnls  wer 
at>etti>rs  of  the  God-worshippi-rs.      Many  of  the  inhabitants  wera 
killed.     These  cruelties  greatly  incensed  the  |iopulacc,  and  maajfj 


China — the  Taeping  ftebtUim. 


611 


of  tlirm  joinrHl  the  rebel  force.  A  rigid  discipline  was  established  ; 
and  tin*  local  rliiefs  of  the  ancicDt  nnd  formidablu  Triad  ais^'icia- 
tiiin,  which  has  for  itsavoweil  object  the  expulsion  of  the  Tartars, 
and  the  restoration  of  the  Ctiincsc  dvnast^'  of  Ming,  thoug'K  they 
made  overtures  to  join  the  movement^  were  sf)  awe-struck  hy  the 
dr<-npiUiti»n  of  a  teacher  who  had  miscondnrtMl  biinsrlf.  that 
thev  drew  liark.  saying-,  *  Vonr  laws  seem  to  be  ratlier  to«>  cruel  : 
wc  shall,  ]>i>rha|K,  find  it  dilTicult  tu  keep  them  ;  and  upon  any 
small  transj;ression  jou  would  perhaps  kill  us  also.'  Hnng-'siu- 
tsnen,  on  the  other  hand,  dcclnrer]  thot  it  was  too  late  to  speak 
of  restoring  the  Mings.  *  At  nil  events,'  said  he,  *  when  oui" 
native  motuitaiii>)  and  rivers  are  rernvered,  a  new  dvnasly  must 
be  ostabliahMl.  Hnw  iroiihl  wn  at  present  arouse  tijr  energies  of 
men  by  speaking  (»f  restoring  the  Ming  ilynasly  ?  ' 

Tlie  ofhcci^  of  Government  were  soon  compelled  to  report  to 
PeJcin  lliat  the  culpable  lenity  an<l  inaction  of  the  magistratrs 
liad  pennitted  the  fornialion  of  a  secret  societv  ;  tliat  the  heatls 
of  this  society  lia<l  Btirnnl  up  the  rommou  j)ft>ple  in  Kwaiig-si 
to  revolt,  and  to  plunder  and  bum  iIh-  villages,  routing  tht 
troops  of  the  Government  wherever  thev  fell  in  with  tiiein. 
'  Hung-sia-tsDCM,'  writes  the  governor,  *  is  a  man  of  dang't-rous 
*'haractcr,  and  he  prartiws  tlie  ancient  miUtnrj-  arts.  At  first  he 
conceals  his  strength,  then  he  puts  it  forth  a  little,  then  in  * 
greater  degrtn-,  bihI  lastly  ct>mes  im  in  greal  force.  He  OOD- 
stantty  ha^  two  victories  for  one  defeat;  for  he  pracliflcs  tiw 
tactics  of  iSuu-pin.' 

The  army  of  the  insurgents  was  systematically  organisctl ;  *  in 
action,  whoever  backe^l  out  was  exccutetl;  while  rewards  and 
promotions  were  given  to  the  victorious  ;'  and  minute  regulations 
(generally  of  a  Uuinaneaml  provident  nature)  were  nn>mulgated 
for  the  guidance  of  the  tiiM)|>«  u]K>n  the  march  and  in  all  their 
operations.  The  first  great  advantage  obtained  bv  them  consisted 
in  their  sudden  eaptorc  of  the  important  citi.-  of  \  uiig-gnan,  in  the 
eastern  part  of  Kwang-si,  wliich  llicy  efTectetl,  according  to  the 
Canton  account,  by  advancing'  quickly  to  the  walls,  which  am 
not  very  high,  and  tlien  throwing  an  immense  quantity  of  lighttvl 
fire-crackers  into  the  town,  tlie  continue<l  explosion  of  which 
brought  confusion  among  the  soldiers  within,  and  causetl  them 
to  retreat  ;  after  which  tlie  insurgents  easily  succcedetl  in  waling 
the  walls  and  entering  die  city.  lliey  tlieri  plunderetl  tlw* 
treatnirv,  killed  tlie  officers,  broke  open  the  prisons,  and  |iossessed 
themselves  of  the  granaries.  The  district  magistrate  and  the 
UeutenaDt-<^lonel.  together  with  various  subordinate  oflSccrs  and 
tbeir  families,  were  put  to  death,  to  the  number  of  several  score. 

VoL  112.— iVo.  «W.  2  L  The 


512 


China — the  Taepivp  RrMUon. 


Tho    chief,    Hung-sin-tsueii,    mtiile  n   truimpltal   rntty   into   tin 
Iiiwn,  whpn,    under  the*   title  which    bo    hail  alroacl_j'  assumnl, 
ot"  Tictj-Wiing,  or  Heavenly  Kinp,  he  was  proclaim«l  Uic  finr 
Emppmr  of  the  new  draasty  of  Taepine,  or  GrcAt  Ppncp. 

Some  inontlis  after  the  taking:  of  Ytinp-giifin,  the  nrw  [loteii-] 
late  issued  (Nov.  1^51)  a  prnelnmatiiin,  K'^'iK  ^"'  *'''*'  "H 
king  to  his  chipf  hrailern,  and  assigning  to  each  ^tciA  ofTiriTi 
his  appropriati!  fiiiirtions.  Wy  tills  proclamation  be  ret|uiretl  allj 
his  officers  and  soldiers  to  follow  his  ductrioCf  which  Ue  proivcdl 
to  lay  down  : — 

'  Oiir  Ilcnvcnly  Father,  tho  great  God  and  miprome  Lord,  \n  ondj 
ti-iiu  Spirit  (Ctiid) :  besides  oiir  IlnaveiUy  Father  the  fireat  Clod  iiudj 
iuiI>ri-'uiL>  L«rd,  theit-  i'b  im  S|iirtt  (God  I.  Tlio  groat  God  our  Ilfavt'idyj 
Fnthtrr  and  Rnprenu!  Lord  is  omniKrirut,  omn!]»oUju(,  and  omniprewjil 
—  the  sui)reino  orer  all.     Therci  It.  not  an  individoal  who  is  not  yv**-\ 
ilTice<1  and  uoiiriK]i(.-<1  hy  him.     He  irt  Shiuig  (Sujimmo).      Ho  is  tho 
Tc  (Knicr).     Busidotf  tho  great  God  uar  Huuveiily  Father  and  suprouM 
Lord  tlKiro  is  no  ono  who  eon  bo  called  Shang,  and  no  oiio  who  can  be 
callud  Te. 

'Thoroforo  from  hsDoeforib   all   you  soldlon    and   oflKcont 
dceificnalti  ub  as  your  lord,  and  that  is  nil :  you  must  nbt  call  roo 
jiriMui-,  IcKt  yuu  hhiiuhl  <.>Jicri)ach  upon  tlio  dm^iiittiuu  uf  our  Hcavuul) 
Fftthur.     Our  Hcnvunly  Father  iH  our  Holy  Father,  and  oiu-  Celt 
Gldur  Btothor  is  our  Huly  Lord  llut  3ftviom-  of  tho  world.     Uqdco 
Hnavnnly  Fnlhcr  and   Celostiu.1   Elder  Brother  olnnc  are  holy  ; 
from  henceforth  alt  you  soldiers  and  officers  may  designate  as  aa 
lord,  aud  that  is  all ;  but  you  must  not  call  wo  holy,  le*t  yow  encroach " 
upon   the  di>aigii(itii>ii   uf  nur  Heavenly   Fatlier  and  fi^h'stial    Elder  i 
Ill-other.     Tht  groat  Go<l  our  Heavenly  Father  and  Bn|iTenie  Lnrd-iej 

our   Spiritual    Feather,  our  Ghot^tly    Father 'All  tho 

nhnvo  referral  to  am  to  Ixi  nnder  tlie  soperiultaidenoo  of  the  £wtam 
king.     Wo  havo  olso  issued  a  proclamation  designating  oor  qooun  oij 
tho  lady  of  all  Indies  (ctupross),  and  onr  concabiiiM  u  royal  ladioa.] 
Respect  tins.* 

I'uiig-viin-san,  the  ancient  cnmmde  nf  tho  chieC  '^i^*  tho 
SdUthevn  king ;  V  ang,  tlit*  seer,  the*  Kastrm  king ;  Stau,  wbu  in] 
his  tnnces  supposed  himself  to  be  under  the  inspiration  uf  J  csua, 
the  Elder  Brother,  was  the  Western  king  ;  and  Wei-ching,  anj 
adherent  of  influfn(i%  (he  Nortliein  king.  From  the  cwmmencw' 
nient  iif  the  relH-llion  op  to  the  pnfspiit  dav,  thr  chief  has  de^ 
votril  a  great  deal  of  his  atti-ntioii  t«  thr  framing  vi  prorUra»*ij 
tions,  oniers,  creeds,  and  ductriual  addresses :  and  from  tb« 
ns  well  as  from  tlic  more  vulgar  orders  nf  the  day  issued  by  bis 
Kubtmlinntf^s,  the  spirit  of  the  rebellion  it  In  be  IramL  Tlie 
Decalogue   was   ordered    to    be   obsenrcd.     It   will    have   been 

notwcu 


China — the  Taepiftg  JRebeSion. 


M3 


noticfvl  tbal  polvpHtny  was  not  prohibItr<I.  Hmivot  wns  pro- 
mised to  tluf  IkjIU  fiiul  vi-iitunms  :  hell  was  tu  lie  tlie  lot  of  the 
timid  and  imlolinit;  alt  wli<i  should  tian^ros»i  the  Seventh  Cum- 
mandment  wcro  to  he  instant]}'  beheadtH). 

The  Imperial  forces,  in  due  time,  inrested  the  city  of  Yung- 
gnan  ;  aiul  in  April,  1352,  the  Taepiiigs,  being  hard  pressed, 
salljiiig  out  in  three  Ixidies,  forwnl  tlirir  way — not  wilhuut  con- 
sidf-rablc  loss  —  through  the  ranks  of  the  luiperinlists.  The 
tactician  ex-pri(>ftt  wa»  tjtkcii  prismicr  and  sent  to  Pekiii,  where 
after  maJiing,  under  torture  (as  we  have  already  mentioned),  .1 
long  confession — in  which  Hung-siu-tsucn  is  described  as  n 
magician,  a  wioebibber,  and  licentious — he  was  cut  into  small 
piece3,a  punishment  regardcil  by  the  Chinese  with  the  utmost  httrriir, 

T)ic  Tappings  proceeded  steadily  north wuni,  orcasionally 
foiled,  but  generalfv  taking  tlie  sevenil  cities  that  lav  on  tlirir 
line  of  march,  and  evacuating  tliem  as  soon  as  they  had  oblalncti 
what  necessaries  they  re(|uircd.  Their  plan  seems  ut  have  been 
fn  S]iring  a  mine  under  the  walls,  and  take  the  town,  if  jMissible-, 
by  nssaolt.  At  length,  on  the  12tli  of  January,  1S53,  they  oc*m- 
pi«l  the  three  cities,  adjacent  to  each  other,  of  Ilan-yang,  \Vn- 
chang,  and  Hankow,  where  they  collected  money  and  provisions 
to  an  immenfic  esttnit,  and,  hjiving  loaded  their  vessels  witli  men 
and  stores,  they  proceeded  down  the  Vang-tsze  river  to  Nankin, 
which  they  t<iok  by  assault  in  March,  1853,  meeting  with  very 
little  resistance.  Tlie  tribe  of  Ilokkas,  which  formed  the  liasis 
of  the  Taeping  force,  are  notetl  for  courage  and  endurance,  and 
their  adversaries  behave<l  In  tite  mf»st  dastardly  manner.  Mr. 
Meadows"  states  the  garrison  in  the  citi-  to  be  not  Ie»  than 
70lX>  or  8000  able-bodied  men.     He  says  ■— 

*  Thefio  ManehuK  had  fai  fight  for  all  that  is  dear  to  man  ;  for  tho 
imi»erial  family,  which  laui  always  ircoted  them  well,  for  the  honoorj 
their  nation,  for  their  own  lives,  and  fur  tho  lives  of  their  wivoaj 
,d  children.  Thiti  thoy  woll  knew,  tho  Uoavenlj  i'rinoB  hai 
"opeuly  dei4are<l  the  first  duty  of  \u»  mieeiun  to  Ikj  thitir  estenninatiuo. 
It  might  have  been  expttted,  tliereforL'.  that  they  wuidd  huvo  niado  a 
[1tis{>iTutu  lif^ht  in  H'lf-di^fcucu ;  yet  thuy  did  uut  hlriku  u  hluw.  It 
«^-o[ll(l  seem  a»  if  the  irresistible  progress  and  iiiTeb'rule  enmity  v(  tho 
ttuorgeots  had  btrefl  them  uf  all  some  and  strength,  mid  uf  all  D)aa-| 
hood,  for  thoy  merely  Ihruw  themMslTea  on  the  ground  before 
iGnden,  aDd  pifcoasly  imiilnriHl  fur  meroy  with  eriew  of  "Spare  my 
life.  Princo  1  Spare  my  life.  Vriucc  !  "  Thoy  may  havo  been  paralyzed 
by  thu  thought  thiit  tlicir  impending  fate  was  the  rotiibntiou  of  Hoavc 
fur  tho  iudiserimiuato  slaughter  of  whole  popuhUioiu  by  tboir  an- 


Ml 


Ctiina—the  Tacpinti  ReMHon. 


coetora,  wbon  thtry  coiiquoriKl  tho  country ;  as  at  CcmtDii,  for  instanco 
whuro  tlw  ObiiiC!f«:  ntill  Kpnak  rtiTntigefiilly  oi  the  cxttunuinntioii  of  tin 
iuiubitaDts  OD  the  furcoti  of  tho  prtseut  (lyuast/  tAking  tluit  city. 

*  Only  ikbout  h  Imurlrod  escaped  out  of  n  pnpulatiua  uf  ninru  Ih 
twoiity  tlumwmJ,"  tliu  nwl — im-ii,  women,  ami  chiWri-ii — wtint  nil  ptil] 
to  thu  smonl,     "Wo  killed  them  all,"  said  tho  iimnrgetits  vvilh  aa- 
jthui^i^ ;  tLo  recolloctiou  bringiBg  back  into  their  fficca  tlio  dark  shatl 
of  miKjmriiig  sU^ninosH  they  ramut  hRvc  Imme  whoii  thu  npimUing  cXt'c 
tioii  wjw  going  on.     "Wo  killc^l  thorn  all,  to  tJie  infiuit  in  iimis.     Wi 
loft  unt  a  riKJt  to  spr»ut  from."    The  bodiee  were  thronm  ioto 
Yflugztc.' 

Tills  was  vrrv  cruel ;  ami   men  wTio  jntlffn  hastily  liavr 
8,iUl,    nn    hraring  of  such  ntrorities,  that   the  Ta<*|>iiip(   an?  thi 
jE;rcat4^st  villains  in   pxislnncc  ami    t\u\tc  iml  of  the  pale  of  hti 
inanity,  ami  that   it  is  our   dnty,  on  that  account,  to   take  i 
Kctive  part  in  tlieir  extermination.     Yet,  let  us  consider  wluth 
taken   |>hiee  in  civil  war   in   other  coiintrits  before  we  sav  tl 
tlie  Tftcpingfi  nrn  so  niiirli  wtirse  than  others.      Did   not  Oliv 
Cromwell  put  to  tlio  sworil  tho  ^rriiMins  of  Droglieda  and  We 
fiml  y      Did   not  General  Monk — afterward*  Duke  of  Albrinarl 
— put  to  dentil  the  whole  {jarrison  of  the  town  ol  Dundee? 
turning  to  more    mcHiern  time*,  and    Ui   tlie  h!<ilory  of  a 
whom   till*  Knglish  public  at  one  lime,  and  ufter  the  f*\'eiit< 
are  abimt  lo    refer  to,  delighted   tii  honour — the  Greeks  in 
war  of  inde|>endenei! — what  dt>  we  learn  from  their  very  aWff 
historian  Mr.  Finlay? — 

'In  tho  mouth  of  April,  18iil,  a  MuuHulman  population,  amoiuitiai 
to  npwanht  uf  20,000  souls,  were  living  dispcrswl  in  Greece,  emplnvi 
in  ogricaltaio.  Before  two  months  hiul  eliipii>od  the  greittcT  part  vc 
Klaiii — men,  woinou,  utd  cliildrcu  woru  uiimlurud  withuot  nutrcy 
rouiursc.  Old  mwi  still  point  to  heaps  of  Kt(inos  aiitl  tell  the  travidltr, 
'•  TJKiro  stood  tho  tower  of  AH  Aj;*,  and  there  wo  slew  him,  his  harrni 
and  hiti  Klnve«;"  aud  the  old  miui  widki;  eahuly  on  to  plough  tin 
fioIdH  ivliieh  iinev  hchmgird  to  Ali  Agn,  without  u  thought  that  aa; 
vuugtful  fooling  can  attend  tlio  crime.' f 

Ajpiiu,  at  the  sack  of  Tripolitza  :J — 

*  Women  and  children  wero  fi-equently  tortured  boforo  they  were  »or 
durwl.     After  the  Gn;«:l<H  had  Wv.n  in  jHjsseRBion  of  thu  eity  for  forty 
eight  hours,  they  deliberately  collected  together  about  3000 
of  e^'ery  ago  and  sox,  hot  principally  women  and  cluldroo. 


OrJ 

|icoplc 


it* 


or  forty-H 


"  This,  wo  apprrh<;itJ,  applio  to  the  ijiiarter  of  ilic  city  which  wai  OMUpicd  bj" 
ihcTarlars  auO  llit-ir  fiimilK-s. 

t  •  lliawry  ul"  iLc  (irtik  |[«'o!ulioii,'  by  Grwce  Finluy,  2  »oIi..  1861  ; 
I»p.  ITS,  18T 

:  lliltl.,  \.f.  26r-a7U, 


Chiiui-~^he  Taejfiug  RebrlUosi. 


&1S 


them  to  a  niviuo  in  the  ncercst  moimtAin,  wliero  they  mnrdored  OTorjr 
suul.  (icnoral  GonloQ,  who  rcturm^  to  Tripolitza  vrith  llypAiliuitoA, 
and  whoso  familiarity  with  tlio  Turkish  lun^iogt;  c'i)nhlo<l  him  tu  cou- 
Terse  with  those  who  wero  ii>i)iircd,  «itiiuat(>s  tlio  niiiiibur  of  MuKauIioca 
inurjiinxl  duriug  thu  stok  of  thu  tonn  at  eight  thuusauJ  sotihi.  Manj 
young  women  ui'l  girls  were  carriofl  nff  wt  i^InvcH  by  tho  vttlmilt.'eni 
who  retnnied  to  their  itativo  places,  but  fuw  uialo  children  wcro  spiired. 
'  Gonlou,  &  \nirm  Philliolleuo,  obsarveB :— "  Humanity !«  a  word  qnito 
oat  of  place  uHion  npiilioil  either  to  tho  Turks  ur  to  tlieir  npiKmoDts."  '  * 

So  Diucli  for  Greece.  We  will  not  ask  what  has  l>ccn  ihe 
conduct  of  the  Servians  at  Belgrade  during  this  very  year.  But, 
t(t  return  to  Chinn.  Mr.  Forrest,  a  genllemnn  brh>ii»^!ii^  lo  <iur 
Consular Vstablislimcnt,  who  jiaftscd  some  tiipR  at  Nankin  amunj; 
tlie  Taepin);9,  says,  in  a  passage  cited  by  Captain  Blakiston 
(p.  55),  that  certain  cruelties  of  the  Tacpings  are  *  hardly  a 
counterpart  of  Tsing  (Imperial)  atrocities.  But  the  other  i.\\iy\ 
at  Xgan-king,  the  Imperinlisls  enjoyril ':i  three  days*  slaughter, 
nni)  left  neither  inim,  woman,  nor  child  in  that  unfortunate  city. 
The  Careal  K-iver  1$  crowded  now  willi  their  hcadli^iui  victims.* 
And  we  learn  upon  tlic  high  authority  of  IJr,  A^c^ga — a  much 
r0a|}ccted  missionary,  who  has  spent  many  years  in  Cbinn, 
that  'on  the  score  of  cruelty,  the  case  must  \yc  alKiut  even  be- 
tween the  two  contending  parties:  inclining  t^i  tlu'  ImjM'riiil  siile, 
if  wu  may  judge  on  tlie  principle  tliat  the  more  cowardly  are  the 
more  cruel.' t 

The  proclamations  and  orders  issued  to  the  army  by  Vang, 
the  Eastern  king,  as  generalissimo,  are  all  designed  to  stir  up 
the  Chinese  national  feeling  against  the  Tartars.  He  declares 
that  the  empire  belongs  to  the  Cliiuese,  ami  not  to  the  Tartars  ; 
that  the  foml  .ind  r.-iiment  found  therein  Ix-htng  to  tlie  (Thinesc, 
ami  not  to  the  Tartars.  '  Can  the  Chinese,'  he  aKks,  '  dei'm 
tbems<^lves  men  ?  *  ICver  since  tUc  Manchus  have  spread  tlicir 
poisonous  influence  through  China,  the  flame  of  oppression 
has  risen  up  to  heaven;  while  the  Cliinese,  with  Uiwed  heads 
and  ilejected  spirits,  willingly  become  the  servants  uf  others, 
flow  strange  it  is  tliat  there  are  no  men  in  China  !  If  all  tho 
bombuos  of  the  southern  hilU  were  to  be  used,  we  fear  they 
would  not  be  enough  to  detail  the  obscenities  uf  these  Tartars ; 
and  if  all  the  waves  of  the  liasteni  Sen  were  to  he  employed, 
thev  would  not  be  sulVunent  to  wash  away  their  sins,  which 
reach  to  heaven,     Thev  deprived  the  Chinese  of  their  national 


•  '  IIiMnry  iiTlhe  Rrwk  lli'Tnlntion,*  p.  237. 
t  '  Loodvii  aud  Cliiiia  Tdcgnpli,'  vol.  ir.  p.  493. 


heaiUlrcss, 


• 


hcftfldress,  cuinpclllng  them  to  shave  their  beads  and  wcnr  a 
lon^  tail  liolitiMl,  thus  causing  them  to  assume  the  niipcnmucc 
of  brnti-  animals  [a  custom  which  the  Tacpitigs  liavt*  dift- 
cardnl]  ;  the)'  have  also  abolished  the  luitioiiat  dress  ;  thev  have 
iiit^^rfered  with  the  purity  of  tlkc  language,  introducing  the  slang 
of  tht;  capita],  dcsigrninp  to  seduce  the  Chinese  bv  their  Tartar 
brogue.  They  are  indilTerent  to  the  sufftrrings  of  the  pe«jple  bv 
drought  or  inundations,  lliry  have  corrupted  the  ailministration 
of  justice.  *  Offices  are  to  be  obtained  by  bribes ;  ciimes  are  to 
\)t!  bought  off  with  money;  rich  fellows  engross  all  authority, 
while  heroes  are  filled  wiUi  despair.'  The  corrupt  mandarins  o(, 
the  public  ofiices  are  no  better  than  wolves  and  tigers.  All  this 
orijfiiiates  in  the  vicious  and  sottish  monarch  at  the  bcwl  trf 
affairs,  who  drives  honest  pt'ople  to  a  distance,  and  admits  to  his 
presence  the  most  worthlt^ss  of  mankind,  sells  ofiices  and  disposes 
of  preferments,  while  he  refuses  men  of  Wrtuotis  talpnt.  The 
rich  and  the  great  are  abandoned  to  vice  without  control,  whilst 
the  poor  and  miserable  have  none  to  redress  their  wrongs. 

*Thereforp,*  sn)s  V'luig,  '  I,  the  Oeneral,   in   obedirnre  to  tho 
Royal  commands  have  put  in  motion  the  tmojts  for  the  punish* 
nient  of  the  oppressor.     As  soon  as  a  city  has  Iwen  raptured, 
I  have  put  to  death  the  rapacious  mandarins  and  corrupt  magis- 
trates therein,  but  have  not  injured  a  single  individual  uf  the 
people,  so  that  all  of  you  may  take  care  of  your  families  and 
attend  1o  your  business  witliout  alarm  and  trepi<Ulion.'     He  even 
iletails  the  mea-sures  which  In*  has  taken  for  the  instiint  decapita- 
tion of  marauders  and   oppressors.      Hut   he  remarks  that  it  is 
necessarv'  that  the  rich  should  have  in  readiness  stores  of  provi-  | 
sions  to  aid  in  the  sustenance  of  his  troops ;  they  are  to  report  to 
lliP  Tacping  chiefs  the  amonni  of  their  contributions,  and  are  to 
I»e  furnished  with  rerei  pts  ns  security  that  hereafter  the  whole  shaU 
be  paid.    As  sofrt)  .is  Nankin  is  taken,  armngcmcnls  are  to  be  mode 
for  holdinp  examinations,  ami    conferring  de^ees  according  in. 
the  original  customs  of  the  Chinese.    The  temples  and  mmiasterirsj 
of  the  priests  of  Buddha  and  Taon  arc  to  be  given  to  the  pnord 
and,  as  t/»  the  priests  of  these  deities,  *at  present  we  are  seutii 
them    (hinughnnt   tlie   country,  and   jiutting   them    to   death,  and, 
we    are    iiir[uiring    into  those   who    have   been    roreni4>st    in   tbej 
buiUling  and  repair  of  the  Ttiiddhitit  tirmples,  that  we  may  bavnl 
thein  apprehended  likewise.* 

When  they  entered   Xunkin,  professing  these  sentimeDts;,  tL«*l 
Taepings  numbered  over  70,OriO,  their  ranks  having  been  swelle<l 
by  the  absorption  of  hn-al   rebels  in  the  countries  thi-ough  which 
the}  had   passeil,  and    by   pressing   into   their  service  Inils  imdn 

cighteenj 


China — the  Taeping  BebelHon.  517 

eighteen  years  of  age.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  that  one-third  of 
their  force  generally  consists  of  boys.  They  also  had  many  female 
officers  and  privates  in  the  force.  Hung-siu-tsuen  now  termed 
Nankin  the  heavenly  capital,  and  residence  of  the  heavenly  king. 
He  imitated  the  style  of  the  Emperor  of  China,  and  shut  himself 
up  with  his  numerous  concubines ;  was  seldom  accessible  even 
to  his  chiefs,  and  occupied  himself  more  than  ever  in  composing 
orders  and  proclamations,  odes,  and  expositions  of  doctrine. 
At  this  time  he  addressed  to  Mr.  Roberts  a  warm  invitation  to 
join  him.     He  says : — 

•  •  In  consequence  of  the  multiplicity  of  publio  afl^rs  engaging  my 
attention,  I  have  not  had  leisure  to  instruct  the  people  morning  and 
evening.  Bnt  I  have  promulgated  the  Ten  Commandments  to  the 
army  and  to  the  rest  of  the  population,  and  have  taught  them  all  to 
pray  morning  and  evening.  Still,  thoBC  who  understand  the  Gospel 
are  not  many.  Therefore  I  deem  it  right  to  send  the  messenger  .... 
in  person  to  wish  you  peace,  and  to  request  you,  my  elder  brother,  if 
yon  are  not  disposed  to  abandon  me,  to  come  and  bring  with  you 
many  brethren  to  help  to  propagate  the  Giospel  and  administer  the 
ordinance  of  baptism.  So  sh^  we  obtain  the  true  doctrine.  Here- 
after, when  my  enterprise  is  successfully  terminated,  I  will  disseminate 
the  doctrine  throughout  the  whole  empire,  that  all  may  return  to  tlio 
one  Lord,  and  worship  only  the  true  God.  This  is  what  my  heart 
truly  desires.' 

Unhappily  it  was  not  safe  for  Mr.  Roberts  to  make  his  way  to 
Nankin,  and  this  chance  of  diffusing  the  Christian  religion  was 
also  lost 

The  want  of  vigour  at  head-quarters  appears  by  the  insufficient 
manner  in  which  Hung-siu-tsuen  allowed  a  really  great  enter- 
prise, the  march  towards  Pekin,  to  be  undertaken.  Soon  after 
the  capture  of  Nankin,  the  rebels  despatched  a  small  army  of 
6000  or  7000  men,  under  leaders  who  did  not  occupy  the  first 
rank,  to  make  its  way  to  the  northward.  Northwards,  accord- 
ingly, did  this  small  army  press  to  the  distance  of  1300  miles,  the 
imperial  troops  following  but  seldom  overtaking  them,  till  they 
established  themselves,  in  the  end  of  October,  1853,  at  Tsii;;- 
hae,  not  far  from  Pekin  itself.  Here  it  would  seem  that  a  sec^md 
force  was  to  have  joined  them,  somewiiat  later,  by  a  difl.rent 
route,  but  the  Imperial  Government  made  unwonted  cfTorl',  and 
the  Taepings  were  obliged  to  evacuate  Tsing-hae,  after  :  r.  occu- 
pation of  about  three  months,  and  to  return  towards  t  e  South 
before  the  second  army  could  join  it;  and  thus  tl.e  Tartar 
dynasty  escaped  its  greatest  danger,  for  the  combin  d  frirces  of 
the  rebels   might  have  captured  Tientsin    and  the  .  waited  for 

1   inforrements 


■ 


518  Cbina — the  Taeping  RchdHim. 

r«!nrom>nionts  firom  Naiikin.  It  must  lie  allownl  tliat  tlie  cliiRfs 
skou-ed  i^rent  want  of  inilitnry  spirit  in  linf^erinf;  at  Nankin,  and 
sending  out  an  inadequate  force  upon  so  important  an  expedition. 
For  the  exact  succesfiion  of  inilitnry  events,  for  the  place*  taken, 
lost,  retnlfcn,  a<^iin  hist,  atw]  ugniii  reroverti) — fur  tlie  burning 
and  phimli'rinj;s,  and  iiiiissarrtrs  of  Iiittli  parties — we  must  rpfiT 
to  Coniinander  lirine's  narrative.  We  will,  hovrever,  «xClBCt  his 
statement  of  the  present  extent  of  the  'J'aeping  ruie — 

*  The  extent  of  conntry  imdor  tho  inuncdiato  control  of  Uw  Ticn- 
V/ang  so  constantly  Tarics,  that  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to  define  it 
with  titai!in«HH.  At  iiniflC'iit,  a  half-cindci,  dravn  &oxd  Kaiikin  towardii 
tlif'  si'uth-wcttt.  mth  a  radius  nf  iifly  miles,  will  include  all  that  bis 
followers  arc  known  to  possess  towards  the  interior :  and  sixty  miloi 
on  lintli  Hides  of  a  linn  <lni\vii  fmm  the  soma  city,  Uirougli  SofM^v, 
and  ending  ut  the  sea  near  Niugjjo  (a  liueiu-  distonoo  of  atxmt  tvn 
hundred  dUIos),  nil]  include  all  uiat  they  possea  in  the  dlreotiim  of 
tho  senhoard. 

*  ThiLB  tho  total  araotmt  of  land,  8t»  entirely  under  the  Tien-Wang's 
antltority  as  to  enable  him  to  forco  the  inhabitants  to  comply  mth  lii« 
n^ilatiuns  and  to  jmy  taxes,  is  not  less  than  thiiiy  thousand  sqoan; 
miles.'* 

The  fighting  men  of  the  Tappings  Commander  Brine  reckons 
at  not  less  than  400,tHH). 

The  ('hief,  or  Heavenly  king,  had  early  delegaled  tlm  com- 
mand   in   tiie   Held    to  Vang,   now   colled,  the    bastcm  king. 
wlutsK    visions  appc^nr  tn    luivr  ccime    in    verv    tipiJortuncIv  for 
the  detection  of  treason,  and    prubniilv    for  olhiT  |M>lilinil  |mr-        , 
jHiscs.       At    Ictif^lli     tlicy    .-uisuinL>il    a    highly    iiggrcssivo    form  ^| 
towanls  the  Chief  himself.     UjJon  one  octiision  Vang,  sjn-aklng  V 
in  the  name  of  the  Almighty,  rebuked  him  for  bis  impetnoui 
dis{iosition  and  harshness  in  the  treatment  uf  his  huuseliold,  and  ^^ 
(mlere^l  him  to  lie   beaten  witb  forty  blows,  which  ihc  Emperor  ^| 
submitttti    to  receive,  and  prostrated  liiniself  accordingly,  but   ^ 
execution    was  dispensed    with.       Afterwatds,    in    ol»'dienec  ti> 
Divine  commands,  Vang  .iddresseil  to  him  iu  his  own  house  a 
long  and  severe  lecture  on  bis  sbortcominga,  the  cooclusiun  uf 
which  we  copy — 

'  AN'hen  tie  IsdibK  wait  upon  you,  my  idder  brother,  it  is  of  conrss 
tlwir  tliity,  but  Bonifftinies  thoy  may  Ix.'  upt  to  cxcito  your  righteous 
tbspUosiirc,  ill  wliiuh  ease  you  mnst  treat  tliem  gently,  and  not  kick 
tliitm  f '!( •  yim-  botit  im  ;  fur  if  yuii  kick  Uicira  with  your  boot  on,  it 
may  bo  tbrt  some  of  the  ladies  are  in  such  a  stato  as  to  call  for  the 

*  Wv  hnte     Imdy  noticed  Csptain  Blakisioo'i  «TSteDH»lt  of  Sir  IL  PBiit«'i 
npitiloR  rpoa  I.   s  tubj«ct, 

oongratolatioiw 


I 


Ch'na — Mff  Taeping  R^Mlion. 


510 


congratnlftttoiLf  of  Uicir  fxieuds,  outl  tlitut  yuii  intcrfuro  n-ith  tiio  kind 
iiit<intiuiui  tif  (iiiL-  Hijuvealy  FiitJier,  %vliu  lovf-a  U>  foster  honiaii  iif«. 
FurUiLT.  when  0117  (,i  the  Itulics  are  in  the  state  nbo^-a  ulludul  tti,  it 
woald  bo  aa  well  to  manifciit  a  littlo  gracioiw  ci>iiKi<l[unitioti,  anil  bIIdw 
t}ioiu  to  rtist  from  thinr  liiKouts,  whilo  yon  itek'ct  some  scpArato  efita- 
blishmcnt  for  their  rfj*iiitnci;  atnl  repose.  Yon  may  stiU  require  Uit-m 
morning  and  evening  to  pay  tliuir  rt«pectK.  8ucb  a  in»Llioii  iif  troiU> 
iDtint  woiilil  Imi  propi^i-,  luiJ,  if  tvtill  any  of  tlic  ladius  shonjd  commii 
any  trifling  fanlt  su  as  to  give  ofllucu  U>  my  Lord,  it  wonld  be  aa  well 
to  excUHc  tuom  from  being  beaten  with  tlut  bambuo.  Yoii  may,  hnw- 
(3VDr,  HCoM  tliem  mvendy,  and  tidl  tlvin  not  to  ofi'und  any  niore, 
Shoold  any  of  tlicm  commit  any  giiovoua  crime,  you  ahould  wait  till 
after  tbeir  confLuomcnt,  when  you  can  inflict  pnmtilmicut.'  * 

'riicfte  rppriKtfs  were  rereived  widi  the  utmost  humilitv  by  tUc 
Chii'l',  and,  aftpr  a  visit  wbicli  Vang  and  others  paid  him  for  the 
pur[>o$r  of  condoling  with  him  ujK>n  his  Kavuig  incurred  the 
displeasure^  of  the  Almighty,  ho  lH>stowi»l  on  Vang  the  ap^K-lla- 
tiun  of  tb(*  C(»mfortcr  or  IJoIy  Spirit  ;  a  title  of  which  the  real 
meaning  was  probably  not  susi>ected  by  either,  and  which  Vang 
r»rtliwitli  a<h)pt4?d  in  all  his  edicts.  Nevertheless  all  tliis 
erwhtl  in  ^'ang*s  Ijoeotning  greatly  suspecteil  of  plotting  against 
the  Heavenly  King,  and  one  morning  Vang  and  his  attemlant 
officers  were  found  dead.  Some  had  Iwon  sjxmrod  and  otliors 
dc'capitati^d.  (.'aptain  Btakiston  has  cite<l  (p.  28)  Mr.  Forrest's 
account  of  a  double  trago<Iy. 

'  PaaMug  by  a  wall  aiul  Rtrong  Rtocltado,  you  cutej-  into  a  »paco  for- 
merly coverL-d  by  tho  soutbi'm  BubQrb,and  in  whieli  ro«t  tlie  PonTclain 
Tower.  How  well  wc  remember,  "in  the  dayn  when  cIuMIiomI 
fitwtud  by,'  nailing  in  Piniiock's  nr  somubudy  cIso'm  C^uuilioiii),  of 
thi«  splcudid  work:  nay,  every  map  or  tract  or  chapter  eonce-ming 
China  wa.s  pivfuei.!!!  by  an  illo^tratitin  of  the  pugoda,  ono  of  tho 
wniidrrs  of  ttu!  wnrld.  Now  it  in  a  whito  bill  of  niiuB.  Two  ininieniw 
walls,  divided  by  a  narrow  aperture,  ore  tho  only  portiims  of  the  tower 
now  standing. 


*  The  doctriaes  of  ibe  Tien-Wang  regardiag  conjugal  duties  mty  be  Llltislnitcd 
by  two  vi-nws  oontaiiivd  in  hM'Ou«  for  Yoaih,'  which  Iti.-  Bent  to  Sir  (icorge 
tktoham,  smoog  other  compositiuiui  tn  Ih-  noticed  nii>r«  fully  IrIuw  :— 

Os  TOK  Ihrnra  or  Hubb.u'db. 

UnticnilinK  flnnuctt  U  natural  to  tbc  nuuf, 
Ix>vc  for  n  irlTo  shciiild  h<-  qnslificd  by  pniileoce ; 
Aad  tbofild  tii«  lioms*  r»ar 
t<«t  not  tt-rror  fill  tlii;  roind. 

On  Tita  I>eTir.A  or  Wives. 

Women,  tw  obedient  to  your  thrv4*  ntalu  rvlaiirec, 

And  do  not  diaotwr  )  our  lords  : 

When  hens  cnw  in  tbc  uutnilng 

Sorrow  may  be  expected  ia  the  fatuily.  *  ^0 


520 


China — the  Tattling  IMicUioiu 


'The  porticm  of  the  soburbfl  in  which  Uub  poixxUain  tower  was 
Hituatod  wait  uuilor  Uiu  cumitiaiid  nf  Ui«  Eastern  king.  T:i^-Wui^ 
hAving  occasion  to  donbt  tho  fidolity  of  thiR  gimtlomnu,  ih'jiutt.'d  Uio 
Noi-them  kinf;  to  cut  oft'  hin  head,  and  qtiiotlf  slaughter  his  full(tn-vr». 
This  wna  dimo  to  tho  nHinlxir  of  10,000.  But  now  Tien-wan^,  lo 
tatisfy  tlic  minds  of  men,  nccnsed  the  Northern  Iring  pf  Uiu  uilfol 
murder  of  l^mg-waDg  (who  wan  elected  Savioor  of  tho  WurhL  atid 
aiWwardH  the  Holjr  Ghoet),  and  kIuw  him  and  hi^  foUuwuxv.  AA«r 
this,  Ticn-wang  was  told  that  Tang-  waug  bnaKtcd  thai  fruoi  liia 
porcoUin  tower  he  could  conmumd  the  city.  I'owdLT  was  ordered 
into  tho  tower,  and  tiiu  whitlo  haildiug  hh)^vu  up.' 

Shortly  after  tho  tnkinj;  of  Aankin.  Sir  C^evr^  Bnnhain,  the 
(fovcmor  of  Hong-Konjj,  made  his  apponrancp  tlirrc  in  H.  M.S. 
*  Hermes."  The  Tacpi  rigs  wrri!  found  im  thaturcasion  lo  lip  well 
provided  with  guns  i>f  every  dcscrijilioti,  frnin  gingitlts  to  lorpp 
rnnntin.  'J'lin  city  pn*snntiil  ii  Hri'ne  of  utl«!r  desotntion.  Tbr 
object  of  Sir  George  llonhain's  visit  was  paitly  to  asc<'itam  what 
really  were  the  principles  of  the  robt^Is,  and  partly  tn  contradict 
the  report  which  bad  been  spread  by  the  bnperialists  that  they 
werp  to  be  assisted  by  tlie  Knglisli  ships  of  war.  The  Tncpinpi 
pnifesstnl  entire  indinerenro  to  our  neutrality,  luingted  with  a 
rertniii  degree  of  /jitod-will,  foundcfl  on  tlie  similarity  of  uur 
religious  creed  to  theirs,  lliey  remarked,  '  It  would  W  wron^ 
for  you  to  help  the  Tartars,  ami,  what  is  more,  it  wouhl  Ik-  of  no 
use.  Our  Heavenly  Father  helps  us,  ami  no  one  can  fight  witJi 
him.'  However  high  Sir  Gertrgc  Bnnlmm's  rank  might  be,  tlw 
Northern  king  deelarrel  it  riiuid  not  !«■  so  high  ns  bis  own;  and 
nitliough  a  ileixee  wajs  issued  lo  (hi*  efS'et  tliat  thr  Knglit>h  shmiM 
come  and  go  fnndy,  wliether  lo  aid  tlie  Taepings  in  the  txtermitia- 
tifm  of  the  demons  (Tartars),  or  to  pursue  tbeir  own  commercial 
occupntions,  yet  the  style  of  the  ofUcial  communications  was  *n 
absurdly  arrogant  (the  English  Iwing  represented  tu  bavi^^f  come 
lo  give  in  their  nllegi.iiicG  to  tin-  Tien-Wang),  that  Sir  r»ei>rge 
could  hold  nil  personal  intert*i>urse  with  them.  .Ahing  with  this 
ilecrfc,  tlipy  sent  h>  Sir  George  llonham  the  new  iKioks  proinul* 
frnted  by  tbeir  chief,  and  containing  bis  doctrines  on  the  »ubji-cb» 
of  politics,  religion,  militar>'  organization,  and  court  etiquette. 
These  Ixxiks  were  translated  l>v  T)r,  Medhurst,  nnti  nfiiird  the 
most  certain  and  original  evidence  of  the  principles  «lue-h  thev 
professed  nl  I  hat  time,  and  they  may  well  In-  referred  to  for  the 
corrcrtinn  of  the  cxLmragant  misfititenientf  which  have  beru 
cirtulaletl  both  for  and  against  the  'i'aepiugs.  On  her  way  down 
the  river  the  ^Hermes  '  was  fired  ou  by  the  batteries  and  junks 
of  (he  rebels   as  she  passed  Chin-kcang,  and   ibc  dislributnt 

wimr 


China — the  Taeping  Rebellion.  521 

lome  shot  and  shell  among  them  in  return.     An  apologj  wcis 
afterwards  offered  by  the  commandant  of  the  place. 

One  of  the  works  sent  by  the  Taepings — a  sort  of  religious 
poem,  composed  in  lines  consisting  of  three  words  each,  and 
called  the  Trimetrical  Classic — is  especially  worthy  of  notice : — 

'  The  author  of  the  Trimetrical  Classic  has  divided  his  snlfiect  into 
four  distinct  parts  : — 

* '  In  the  fir^  he  gives  a  snmmary  of  the  principal  acts  of  God  with 
respect  to  man,  from  the  time  of  the  creation  until  the  ascension  of 
OUT  Saviour,  according  to  those  versions  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments that  had  fallen  into  his  possession. 

'  In  the  second  part  he  proceeds  to  point  out  to  his  followers  the 
religious  history  of  their  own  country,  and  draws  their  attention  to  the 
circumstance  of  some  of  the  early  Chinese  monarchs  having  been, 
aimilarly  with  the  foreign  nations  spoken  of  in  the  Testaments,  wor- 
shippers of  ono  God.  The  sketch  given  of  the  decline  from  this  &itfa 
into  a  belief  in  genii,  and  subsequently  into  Buddhism  and  other  grave 
errors,  proves  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  author's  knowledge  of  Cluneso 
history — for  all  the  facts  stated  in  the  Classic  accord  with  the  historic 
annals. 

'  The  subject  of  the  third  part  relates  principally  to  his  own  dirino 
powers. 

'  Throughout  the  third  pf^  Hung-siu-tsucn  arrogates  to  himself  the 
attributes  of  a  son  of  God, 

'  The  last  part  of  the  Classic  consists  of  an  exhortation  to  his  fol- 
lowers, under  the  title  of  "  Little  Children,"  to  act  in  accordance  with 
the  teaching  of  the  Oommaudments,  and  to  endeavour  to  be,  in  all 
respects,  honest,  moral,  and  truthful,  and  so  obtain  future  happiness.' 

Here  follows  an  extract  from  the  First  Part  — 

•  The  Great  God  Upon  tho  rroes 

(Jave  lu«  celestiftl  tomnHmln,  Tht^'y  anili'd  his  body, 

Amotmting  to  ton  procepta  WLcro  he  shed  his  uradoiu  blood 

Tho  breach  of   which  vould  not    be    To  snre  all  niankind. 

orgiven.  Three  ilnya  after  hU  death 

Ho  himaclf  wrote  them.  Ho  rose  from  tho  dead. 

And  gave  them  to  Moses ;  And  during  forty  dayti 

The  colestiftl  I*iw        .  He  diacouraed  on  hearenly  things. 
Cannot  bo  altered.  „       ,  . 

When  he  waa  abont  to  aar«nd 

In  aft«r  ages  ,     ,        ,  He  oomnmndtd  hie  diaciplea 

It  was  somctimea  disobeyed,  j^  comninnicat*  his  gospel 

Through  the  dovil'a  teraptatioDS  ^nd  procUim  his  revealed  will 
When  men  fell  into  miticry. 

».  i  iv    *^      .  /^    1  Thoao  who  believe  will  bo  saved 

But  the  Great  Goi  And  ascend  to  heaven ; 

£"  *f  ■*"2i"i^^^  B"t  tbose  who  do  not  believe 

St.nt  his  fin^m  Son  Will  bo  the  flrrt  to  bo  condensed. 

To  come  down  mto  tho  world. 

His  name  is  Jesus.  Tlmmghout  tho  whole  world 

The  l^ni  nn.i  Saviour  of  men.  There  is  ouly  one  (nxi. 

Who  mUcms  them  from  sin  B",^"**  ^"'  T^  ^"•'^'' 

By  the  endumuce  of  extreme  miserj-,  « ithout  n  secowL 

The 


523 


China — the  Taeping  Rebellion. 


The  whole  of  the  Fourth  Part  is  subjoined — 

'  The  Grent  God  diflpkys  Having  overcome  the  fiend 

Liberality  deep  as  the  sea ;  He  returned  to  Heavon. 

But  the  devil  liaa  iujaral  man  'Where  the  Greet  God 

In  a  most  outmReoua  mniiner. 


God  is  theroforw  diuploattcd 

And  has  sent  his  8ou  * 

With  ordera  to  como  down  into    the 

worltl. 
Having  firttt  studied  the  rltuuira. 

In  the  Ting-you  year  (1837) 
He  was  n-ceivetl  up  into  Hoftven, 
Wht'FP  the  ftffftirH  of  Heaven 
Were  clearly  i»iutwl  out  to  him. 

The  Great  God 
Pcrsoiially  inatructctl  hiin. 
Gave  hiiii  utles  and  docuiuente. 
And  eonuumiioftteil    to    hUii  the   true 
doctrine, 


God  also  gave  him  a  neal. 
Anil  eonl'errwl  niton  him  a  ewort] 
Oinne-ettJ  with  authority 
And  majesty  irreaistible. 

He  bade  him,  together  with  the  elder 

brother, 
Nainely  Jesus, 
To  ilrive  away  ini])isli  fli-ndd 
With  the  co-oiK;mtiou  of  luigelw. 

Tljere  was  one  who  lookei!  on  with  on\'i". 
Namely,  the  Kin^  of  lliules, 
Wlio  di;4play<-<l  nnieh  malignity 
Anil  acted  like  a  di-vilish  .■n.-qieiit. 

lint  the  Great  Gnd, 

AVitli  a  high  liaml, 
Instrueted  his  Sou 
To  suImIuo  this  fienil. 

And  liaviug  eonquerLil  him 
To  show  him  no  fiivnur. 
And  in  spite  of  hiM  envious  eye 
Ilu  damped  all  his  eouroge. 

A  yvax  later,  an  American  frigate,  the  '  Susquehannah,'  visited 
Nankin,  with  no  better  success  than  tlie  '  Hermes.'  From  the 
observations  now  made  by  Dr.  Bridgeman,  an  eminent  Chinese 
scholar,  who  went  up  in  this  ship,  and  from  the  notes  of  others 
who  visited  Nankin  within  the  early  years  of  its  subjection  to 
the  rebels,  it  appears  that  the  leaven  of  fanaticism  which  had 
been  manifested  from  the  first,  was  operating  for  evil  and  devc- 


Gavo  Mm  great  authority. 
The  celestial  mother  was  kiiul 
And  exceedingly  giadnus. 
Beautiful  and  mibTc  in  the  extreme 
Far  beyond  all  compare. 
The  celestial  ehler  brother's  wife 
Was  virtuous  and  very  considerate. 
Constantly  exliortiug  the  elder  bnitlier 
To  do  things  deliberately. 

The  Great  God, 

Out  of  love  to  mankind. 

Again  commisaiooed  his  Son 

To  eomo  down  into  the  world. 

And  when  he  sent  hint  down 

Ho  charged  him  not  to  be  afraid ; 

I  am  wifli  y<#i,  said  he. 

To  suiierintoiid  everything. 

In  tlie  Mow-ahin  year  (1848) 

Tlie  Son  was  troubletl  anil  diatn-ssid. 

Wien  the  Great  God 

Appi-ared  on  his  behalf. 

Itringing  Jesus  witli  him 

They  l)oth  came  down  into  the  world. 

Where  ho  instructed  I  lis  Son 

Ildw  to  siLstoin  the  weight  of  govern- 
ment. 

(ind  has  set  up  his  Son 

To  endure  fur  ever, 

To  defeat  eomiiit  maehi  nations 

And  ti>  ihsplay  majesty  and  authority. 

Also  to  judge  the  worlil, 

Ti  (liviilo  the  rightjouft  from  the  wifkcl, 

And  c(Kiiiign  them  t«  the  miserj'  <if  hell, 

Or  Iiestow  on  them  the  ji>ys  of  heaviii. 

Heaven  manages  evirj-  thhig, 

lleiiveii  Kustoins  the  whole, 

Ix't  nil  l)eneath  the  tky 

C'l^me  and  acknowledge  tlie  new  mo- 
narch.' t 


*  Hiing-giu-tsuGD. 

t  '  The  Taeping  Kehellion,'  pp.  372-377. 


Io])lll^ 


r 


China — the  Tapping  RcldUon,  6£8 


loping  it«If  ID  now  forms  ;  ati  instance  of  which  we  UiiTealroaily 
seen  in  tlio  titles  assumed  by  the  Eastern  king  Vang.  Nutwith- 
stniiiling'  tlic  monstntus  Inngua^e  used  b_v  the  chiefs,  the  uuiform 
tcstiinnnv  at  Naiikiii  was  that  nimr  liitt  thi*  Heavenly  Father  niid 
tlie  Heiivi'iily  ICUler  Umther  wert;  wt)rshi|)|H-d.  ThL-re  won*  few 
si^ns  of  religious  culture,  hut  manv  could  i-epoat  the  'I'm  Com- 
mandments as  given  in  their  books.  The  inspimtion  of  the 
Holy  I>cripturcs,  the  equality  of  the  Persons  of  the  dodhend,  and 
uiajiy  other  doctrines  generally  received  by  Protestant  Christians 
as  being  clefirly  revealed  in  llie  Dible,  were  utterly  ignored 
by  the  insurgents.  They  had  uo  hou&es  for  public  worship,  nor, 
appan-ntly,  any  professed  teachers  of  religion. 

Among  the  |Kipcrs  compoicd  by  the  Tien-Wang  ts  a  very 
long  one  rnnceming  *  the  land  regulation  nf  poHticnl  economy 
of  bis  celestial  dynasty.'  In  tliis  he  commands  lliat  nil  fields 
be  divided  into  nine  i>rders  and  lie  classed  according  tti  tlu'ir 
produce;  divisions  of  fields  are  regulated  according  to  the 
number  of  individuals  in  a  household.  Fur  every  twenty-five 
families  there  is  to  be  a  gmnary  ami  a  church,  a  [jotter,  a  black- 
smith, a  <^-aq>cntery  and  a  mnsnn ;  tin-  youths  tn  go  daily  to  their 
rhurrh  and  study  the  Old  and  ihi^  New  Testament;  aiul  on  the 
hulilKiUi-day  all  are  to  attend  Divine  service.  l*rovision  is  also 
made  for  the  militaiy  sen  ice  of  the  country.  It  doe*  not  appear 
iLat  llie  government  of  the  Tien-Wang  ever  was  in  a  condition 
to  give  practical  effect  to  this  scheme. 

About  the  vear  1858  n  dnctimcnt  addressetl  to  foreigners  wag 
sent  off  by  tlie  Tien-Wang  to  H.M.S.  *  Retribution  '  when  l\ing 
at  Woo>hoo,  In  tliis  exposition  the  doctrines  of  the  Taepiags 
arc  again  set  fortJi  in  considerable  detail ;  tlie  pretensions  of  the 
Tion-Wang  are  put  higher  than  ever,  and  the  mission  and 
nierits  of  tlie  king  of  the  I'last  arc  spoken  of  in  terms  of  the 
wildest  audacity.  ^  nng  himself  is  represented  as  having  died 
of  a  in'stilence  *  and  having  g<me  tn  heaven. 

Ol  the  social  condition  of  the  Tnepings  very  little  is  known. 
Til  n  curtain  extent,  at  least,  they  liave  a  coinniunity  of  interests  : 
with  a  very  few  exceptions  no  one  st^emed  to  say  that  aught  «>f  the 
things  he  possessed  was  his  own.  Whether  this  resulted  from  llic 
riecessities  of  the  ease  or  was  an  cstablishtil  principle  with  them 
Or,  Hridgemaii  could  not  asccrtJun  :  but  immcn»'  stures  and  tn-a- 
sun'S  had,  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  been  aci  umulatrd  by  tiM-m,  and, 
these  were  ilaily  being  augmcnte<l.  When  tlie  Taejiings  occupied 
a  city  it  was  their  policy  to  eject  «U  the  inhnbit&nts  who  could  not 


524 


China — the  Taeping  Rei^dlion. 


be  made  useful.  The  reasons  tlicy  Rare  for  this  conduct  were 
tliat  tliey  were  thus  cnableil  to  hold  the  cities  for  n  longer  period 
against  the  nttacks  of  llio  Imperialists,  as  tlirre  were  fewer 
mouths  to  feed  ;  nnd  tlint  it  riHlueed  the  cliances  of  trcacherj,  as 
ill  alt  pi-obabilily  maoy  of  the  residents  would  seize  any  favour- 
able opportunity  to  admit  within  the  walls  the  besieging:  furce. 
The  obscrvnncc  of  this  plan,  and  tlic  system  of  public  granaries 
«mA  community  of  goods,  sufficiently  acrount  for  the  almost 
entire  absence  of  shops  and  trade,  Tbero  seemed  to  be  perfect 
discipline  and  sulmnltnation  within  the  ritv;  any  one  who 
aitempteil  to  trrule  there  was  decapitatetl ;  hut  a  market  for  vege- 
tables Was  held  outside  the  walls,  and  afforded  a  sort  of  neutral 
ground  on  which  the  rebels  and  the  Inrpcrialists  freely  associalwl 
t'»ffether,  gTimbletl,  and  quarrelled.  Their  arms  and  accoulre- 
ments  wen*  tjuite  .ifter  the  old  fashion  of  the  Chinese,  but  tlM'Jr 
red  and  yellow  turbans,  their  lung  hair,  and  tlieir  silk  and  satin 
robes  (the  spoil  of  tlie  cities  they  ha<l  sacked),  so  unlike  tliP 
ordinary  costume  of  the  Chinese  troops,  made  the  insnrf^nti 
appear  like  a  new  rare  of  warriors.  Thvy  were  well  clad,  well 
fed,  nnd  wfll  pnividrd  fur;  they  sremetl  content  and  in  high 
spirits,  as  if  snn?  of  sucrt-ss. 

'I'he  Tien-VV'aii};  still  rails  his  <:hii;f  oflicers  bin^.  Four  out 
of  tlic  five  nrifrina'  kin^s  arc  now  dead.  The  fate  of  tvto  of  these 
we  have  already  mentioned.  Two  more — Fun^-vun-san,  the 
earlv  friend  of  the  chief,  and  !^iau,  known  for  his  visions — have 
fallen  in  battle.  Shih-tah-kae,  the  assi^ttant  king,  the  elder  hnither 
of  the  Tien-Wang,  is  absent  fmm  Nankin,  at  the  head  of  7O,()O0 
insurgents,  in  the  province  of  Tze-chuen.  It  is  doubtful  (as  we 
have  already  mentioned)  whether  ho  is  any  longer  in  subordina- 
tion to  the  Tien-Wang,  or  whether  he  has  set  up  for  himself. 
The  most  important  accession  to  the  staff  of  the  Tien-Wanjr  is  his 
cousin^  Kan-wang,  or  the  Shield  king,  late  Hung-jin,  estccroeil 
ns  a  Christian  iviteehiBt  and  pn'acher ;  hot  since  1858  nn  influ- 
ential ofhcer  of  the  Taepings.  Tliis  dignitarj'  h;is  derlami  that 
on  meeting  wJtlt  his  relative  the  Celestial  king,  and  linving^ 
daily  conversations  with  him,  he  was  struck  by  the  wisdom 
and  depth  of  his  teaching,  far  transcending  tliat  of  comm»[ 
men.  Mr.  Forrest  savs  of  the  Knn-wang,  that  *  if  all  the  rebel 
I  were  like  him,  they  would  siKin  be  uiiistiTsof  China.  In  the  men 
time,  though  he  holds  to  his  ("liristian  Wlief,  he  is  eompflled  Xci\ 
temp«>rise  and  to  comply  with  the  state  of  things  around  him.*j 
'  Kan-wang,'  he  continues,' — 


C/dna-^hs  Taeping  BebeUim.  525 

*  told  ma  that  he  hated  war,  and  tried  on  his  excursions  to  make  it  as 
littlo  terrible  as  possible.  "  But,"  said  ho  (and  E^-wang  has  some 
appreciation  of  troth)  "  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  this  is  a  war  of 
extermination :  quarter  or  mercy  is  never  shown  to  our  men  by  Hsien- 
Feng's  soldiers,  and  in  revenge  om-  people  never  give  any.  But  men 
nnder  my  command  never  imiiecessarily  slay  country-people." ' 

He  has  aulfered  but  has  not  deemed  it  prudent  to  encourage 
foreign  missionaries  to  preach  in  the  streets  of  Nankin  while  the 
war  continues.  Captain  BJakiston  mentions  that  late  advices 
represent  him  to  have  been  degraded  ;  it  is  supposed,  on  account 
of  his  partiality  for  foreigners. 

Mr.  Koberts  at  length  made  his  way  to  Nankin,  and  was  re- 
ceived very  kindly  by  the  Tien-Wang,  who  invested  him  with 
yellow  robes,  and  endeavoured,  but  in  vain,  to  make  him  a  sort 
of  Secretary  for  the  Foreign  Department.  Mr.  Roberts^  however, 
found  that  seven  years  of  prosperity  had  altered  liis  former  pupil 
for  the  worse,  and  after  a  year's  stay,  during  which  he  would 
seem  to  have  been  (through  his  own  injudicious  conduct,  accord- 
ing to  Commander  Brine)  wholly  powerless  for  good,  he  took  leave 
of  the  Taepings  and  of  their  cause  on  the  2(>th  January,  1862, 
denouncing  both  in  a  letter,  which,  whatever  mav  be  thought  t>f 
it  in  other  respects,  must  satisfy  every  reader  that  he  did  well 
to  quit  a  position  for  which  he  was  so  little  suited,  as  that  of 
missionary  to  the  Taepings. 

The  state  of  the  country  lying  between  Shanghae  and  Soochow 
is  thus  described  by  a  missionary,  the  Rev.  Griffith  John,  who 
traversed  it  in  August,  1860  : — 

'  Before  starting,'  writes  Mr.  John,  '  we  wore  told  that  largo  hanils 
of  the  country-people  were  gathered  hero  and  there  for  the  purpose  of 
harassing  the  rebels  in  their  movements,  and  that  travelling  n-as 
oxtromely  dangerous  in  those  parts.  We  were  snrprisod  to  tind, 
however,  that  the  last  imperialist  station  was  only  ten  milce  from 
Shanghae,  and  that  from  tlus  point  to  Soo-chow  thoru  was  not  a  mim 
to  oppose  their  march.  At  one  point  wo  jKisacd  a  floating  bridge, 
which  had  been  constmcted  by  the  insurgents,  and  loft  in  charge  of 
some  of  the  coimtry-people.  A  proolamatiou  was  put  up  on  shore, 
exhorting  the  people  to  keep  quiet,  attend  to  their  avocations,  and 
bring  in  presents  as  obedient  subjects.  One  of  tho  cuuntzj-pooplo 
remarked  as  we  were  passing  along,  that  the  proclaiuation  avbs  very 
good,  and  that  if  the  rebels  would  but  act  accordingly,  everything 
would  be  all  right.  '*  It  matters  very  littlo  to  us,"  said  ho,  "  who  is 
to  be  the  emperor ;  whether  Hicn-Fung  (the  late  emperor),  or  tho 
Celestial  King  (Tien-Waug),  provided  wo  are  left  in  tho  enjoyment  of 
our  usual  peace  and  quiet."  Such,  I  believe,  is  tho  uuivor^  senti- 
ment among  the  common  people.  A  part  of  the  bridge  was  taken  off 
to  allow  onr  boats  to  pass  through ;  after  which  it  was  closed  again 

Tenr 


52(1 


China — the  Tt^piny  Rehelliatu 


very  carpftJly.     Tlw  conntry-poople  were,  iar  tlio  mORt  part,  at 

work  hi  tho  ficlfia  as  iwial.  Tlio  towiis  ami  viUngoa  prcdcntwl  a  very 
aad  epcctnolc,  Thcec  oneo  fluurifiUiug  marts  aru  cutirely  rlusutitid, 
HHil  thtiDsaiulK  iif  houses  Btv  bnrnt  down  to  the  grannd.  lien-  niid 
tliurc  H  xoUtory  old  mati  or  old  woinau  may  be  eeon  muving  slowly  lUid 
tn-liibling  lunoug  tlio  ruiiifr,  mntiiiig  and  wooping  oTor  lliu  ti'trililu 
tlcuMdiiliDri  ttuit  migDH  lu-imnd.  Tugdtlicr  mtfa  sncb  wtioos,  tliu  ntnnlxTr 
of  dead  b<4io»  that  continually  met  tlw  oyc  were  iudescribably  Aiclten- 
ing  to  thu  hciirt.  It  must  not  be  Ibi^utton,  however,  that  most  of  Iho 
liumiug  IM  (Umr  by  tho  imjerinJiKts  bufunt  the  Hrrivid^of  th«  insor* 
gontA ;  luid  that  what  is  done  by  tho  latter  itt  gencraUy  in  solf-defeDoe, 
and  that  more  lives  are  lost  by  suicide  than  by  the  fin-ord.  Th(»i^ 
tlio  dL-L'da  of  violnicu  jwrijrtnitod  by  thn  iusorgdiitM  aru  nnitbcr  few 
nor  iiisigiiificAnt,  still  tboy  would  compare  well  with  those  of  tb< 
impt'riiUiHts.  The  peopln  generally  upttik  well  of  the  uld  rvbela. 
Tliey  say  tlio  old  rebels  lue  humono  in  their  trvatuuTut  of  tho  people, 
»iid  that  the  mischief  is  done  by  those  who  have  bm  recently  joined 
thom.  We  worn  glad  to  find  both  at  Soo-cliow  and  K»-iin-«dinn,  tho 
('ountry-p4)ople  were  beginning  to  go  uiiiong  them  fearleaidy  to  mU; 
Rud  that  they  were  iiaid  the  fall  value  fi>r  every  article.  Wo  were  tali 
at  the  latt*-r  place  tliat  io  mcU  tti  the  ndMtlif  is  good  trado^  ns  Qioy  gm 
tliri?e  and  four  cash  f(»r  what  tbey  formerly  givt  only  one  couh,  rniair 
moKl  ditUeult  tsutk  w  that  of  winning  the  confidenoo  of  the  pooplfi,  and 
dStablifiUiug  order.     lu  tbia  lliey  bavu  hitherto  signally  faued.** 

As  to  the  present  state  of  the  Ticn-Wai^'s  mind,  accounti 
difTrr.  Mr.  KoIhtIs  fciiisidr-rs  lilin  crazv.  Mr.  M airhead, 
uniitlicr  missionary,  re|iortii  that  liis  claims  (which  hnvr  Inttrrlv 
been  advancet]  even  higher  than  of  oMj  are  outwardly  conrrdnl 
for  the  present,  as  Kan-wang  says  he  is  indispensable  to  the 
work  that  is  gvinff  on  ;  and  that  he  is  believed  to  be  nf  Ktmntl 
uiind  nnd  surpassing  nbilitv.  Mr.  Forrest  represents  him  as  a 
sirlf-wiUed,  disputiitious,  incorrigihh?  prdant  and  hcrctie,  Uil 
says  Oial  he  does  not  knon-  what  ftrar  Js,  and  thai  daring  the 
siege  of  Nankin  by  tlie  Im^ierialists — 

'  down  to  tbu  time  when  even  hia  ofScers  bad  bat  one  bowl  of  rice  a- 
dny,  bo  never  failvd  to  impress  them  with  tho  conviction  that  delirar- 
anco  was  nigli,  both  by  his  conversatioQ  and  example.  At  1u/tt  he  wrato 
a  dos<d(>gy,  annorons  and  uiiisical  entnigh,  and  onlered  all  bia  ufficers 
and  RoldicrM  to  leam  it  by  lieart,  prominJng  that  when  Ihoy  did  eo 
HaaTen  woidd  give  tliom  inaQifi>fit  ai^ititancc.  By  day  and  night  for 
weeks  logutber  might  tliis  doxology  bo  hcnnl.  Tho  gtiards  on  tbe 
wall  weri>  repuiding  it,  the  women  and  childivu  were  aiuging  it  In  the 
streets.  At  lu^t,  down  uamo  celestial  aaai  stance  in  the  sIihjhi  of  tho 
Cbnng  and  Ying  WangN,  who  ht-oke  np  tho  ^iege  and  eet  the  bomws 
of  «'ar  loose  in  the  fair  province  of  Kiang-fiiu't 


1 


1 


China— the  Taeping  Rebdlion.    -,  527 

He  llres  in  a  gaudily  decorated  palace  which  he  has  built  fur 
himself  at  Nankin,  and  on  a  wall  close  bv  he  posts  his  own 
peculiar  proclamations,  all  on  yellow  satin,  written  in  vermilion 
ink,  in  his  own  straggling,  ill-looking  handwriting.  It  would 
seem,  however,  that  his  edicts  are  sometimes  issued  with  great 
solemnity.  Colonel  Wolselcy,*  an  eye-witness,  gives  us  an 
account  of  this  ceremony  : — 

'  A  long  coTered  porch  led  up  to  the  gate  of  the  private  residence, 
and  on  tl^  a  red  carpet  was  spread.  All  the  officials  of  the  guard, 
and  those  apparently  belonging  to  the  public  offices  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood,  came  fortrard  in  their  state  drcssos,  and  kneeling  in 
TOWS  facing  the  gate,  waited  in  that  position  till  it  should  be  opened. 
After  a  little  time  the  lofty  yellow  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  a 
woman  appeared  carrying  a  highly-ornamented  tray,  upon  which  was 
a  sort  of  despatch-box,  painted  a  bright  canaiy  colour,  and  having 
pictures  of  dragons  on  each  side.  It  was  sealed  up,  and  contaiucd 
within  the  sacred  Edict.  Upon  seeing  the  box,  all  present  imme- 
diately bent  their  heads,  and  tho  great  crowd  which  had  assembled, 
partly  to  witness  the  ceremony,  and  partly  to  stare  at  the  "  foreign 
devils,"  fell  down  upon  their  knees,  all  repeating  with  a  regular 
cadence,  "Ten  thousand  years — ten  thousand  years— ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  years ;"  which,  although  it  is  simply  analogous 
to  our  "  Grod  save  the  Queen,"  is  by  them  repeated  with  all  tho  fervoiir 
of  adoration.  A  sort  of  yoUow-coloured  sedan-chair,  with  glass  sides, 
\ras  then  brought  forward,  in  which  tho  precious  mandate  was  placed, 
and  then  bomo  away  on  the  shoulders  of  eight  coolies,  amidst  a  loud 
salvo  of  guns,  a  band  of  music  playing  in  front,  and  a  swarm  of  atten- 
dants following.    It  was  being  taken  to  the  Tsan-Wan's  palace.' 

Commander  Brine  states  that  the  Tien-Wang  has  now  almost 
totally  withdrawn  from  taking  any  active  part  in  whatever  relates 
to  the  oiganisation  of  his  armies,  and  that  his  son,  now  a  lad  of 
nearly  fourteen  years  of  age,  exercises  jurisdiction  over  all 
temporal  matters. 

It  would  appear  that  luxury  is  not  wholly  unknown  in  the 
Taeping  capital.     Mr.  Forrest  says : —  t 

'  Having,  on  my  arrival  at  Nanking,  resolved  to  see  as  much  as 
possible  of  the  chiefe  and  people,  without  becoming  exactly  fiuniUar 
with  them,  I  was  very  glad  when  a  civil  letter  came  one  morning  from 
tho  Chung-wang-tstm,  the  brother  of  the  redoubtable  conqueror  of 
Soo-chow,  inviting  myself  and  my  friends  to  come  and  take  dinner 
with  him.  He  sent  ponies  and  an  escort ;  and  in  a  couple  of  hours 
wo  arrived  at  Chmig-wang's  palace,  and  were  duly  ushered  in  by  crowds 
of  fimtastically-dressed  youth.  Chung-Wang's  brothor,  by  name  Lo 
{Anglici  Jones  or  Smith),  is  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  groat  fighting 

.•  Page  340.  f  Rink.,  p.  44. 

Vol.  112.— Ai).  224.  2  M  king, 


53S 


China — tfte  Taeping  RebdHoa. 


king,  who  te  at  proscnt  awny  sproading  Great  Poaoe  in  Hnpeh.  Aboni 
5  ft.  4  ill.  bigh,  uith  a  good-looking,  canning  ootmtotinnoe,  alwa; 
kiightng,  liu  ifl  not  At  ull  a  disagreealtle  man  to  Kpcnd  a  day  mtb.  ~ 
dross  wiiH  uf  bright  scarlet  satiu,  vdih  a  y l-Uow  i-iip,  to  which  is 
a  fine  pearl  oh  largo  im  a  hnzol-nnt.  Ue  lod  ufi  tbruusb  a  good 
roomit  tf>  a  pifitty  littlti  piivilioD  looking  out  on  a  miniature  garden 
rock-work  und  trot.*«,  wiioro  hti  gavu  us  u  vory  good  ChilicfiO 
keeping  up  a  raorry  chal  the  wholo  time.  Thu  food  caino  to  faia' 
in  a  RftrioR  of  ninn  poroeliun  difdioft,  shapod  liko  tba  p«lalB  of  a 
find  uU  liltiii<i;  into  ono  another  on  tho  tabic.  Tin  said  that  HeaWi 
hud  houn  kind  cnoaj^h  to  givo  tliiij  oqiupage  to  his  brother  at  Soo> 
chow.  Thu  chnpstickfi,  forks,  wid  KpouUK  wum  of  silvur.  the  louVM 
£ugliah  plated  ware,  and  his  wiuo-etips  of  gold  fitting  intu  easel  of 
cnamoUtia  «ilTer.  After  a  couplo  of  visits,  I  mido  «  practtoe  of  giao| 
and  talking  to  Uuk  wan  trhcntivur  1  luid  tiuie ;  and  he  has  afaown  mft 
soinu  very  curioTis  thinj**  belonging  to  Chnng-wang.  This  initrti' 
in  tho  only  ono  after  llis  (.'olostial  Mnjeety  wh«>  ha>  a  crown  of 
^hl.  It  in  to  my  tdi-a  ii  roidly  protty  affiiir.  Tho  gold  is  beaten 
thin  cnongh,  and  thon  formed  into  leaves  and  tUigrce  work  liki 
tiger. — vnonuonn  nn  to  toil  in  iront  and  behind.  On  either  aide  is 
hud  of  wliAt  R]Hh:ie8  you  pleasu,  and  on  tht>  top  a  phfenix.  It 
uovsred  from  tiip  to  bott^nn  with  pendent  ]iearls  and  uther  ^^tnns. 
pat  it  on  my  bead,  and  ahould  guess  tho  wvight  to  be  alxtal  t)i 
poundfl.  Ghung-wang  has  likewiHu  a.  wry  handeomo  yu-i  or 
nuido  of  gold,  and  onuunentod  with  Iivrgo  hunclioK  uf  Bitp]diiraii 
pcArltt.  »i>mo  pcculuting  individiinl  had  picked  out  iwniu  of  the 
at  Lho  timu  I  fiaw  it,  and  thu  wrulh  fif  FTtH  Exculluncy  Le  waa 
f^d  to  behold.  There  are  aonio  beanttfiil  pieoca  of  oarvod  jade 
about  the  TariouH  apartments,  as  well  as  old  bronses  and  naifm. 
wi-itUig  appiu-utUK  u»cd  by  my  friuad  Is  uf  gnml  iulrinslo  valuu. 
inkxtone  in  of  jitde,  and  tho  vcssol  to  contain  thu  water  is  eat  frm 
a  large  pink  eXimc  like  an  sniethyKt.  The  stand  for  the  golden  I>e0flil> 
18  u  largo  Hpi-i}{  of  pink  irond,  fixed  iu  a  uubu  of  tiilvi^r.  Or^-sta]  and 
jade  paper- woi gilt)  lie  nlxxit  in  almndanoc,  and  iwveu  watches  won 
keeping  variouti  and  ei:<:tiiitric  rvoorda  of  the  timt-  on  thu  titbk>.  EveiT 
article  on  which  silviir  euuld  ho  vxpuuded  ia  cuvured  nitJi  that  uMtaL 
Tbo  Kwurd  has  a  silver  iM^abbard  and  nlvor  belt ;  the  uuiLrulla  baB^ 
silver  stick  ;  the  whips,  &ms,  and  tails  for  mwKiuito*flapp«n  have 
lulvor  handles ;  and  his  Excellency's  arms  are  crowded  with  silver 
gold  bracelet^,' 

It  will   be  rempmbere<l   tlmt  when  Lonl   Elgin  ascended  ilis 
Vang-uzc,  liis  ships  wore  6rcd  upon   by  the  rebel  foru  at  al 
the  stations  he  passed,  though  in  each  instance  great  contriti' 
was  expressed  when  the  commandants  came  to  understaod 
uuliirp  of  the  expedition.     But  taking  all  their  mmmunicatic 
and  actinns  tngi'tluTF,  it  may  be  safely  said  that  the  Taepijig*  hava 
ahowu   themselves — unless    where   there   were   speciaJ    militaif 

reaaooA 


Tbo 


ilis 


CSuna—tAt  Taking  BebeOion.  529 

reasons  to  the  contrary — willing-  to  encourage  the  approacli  of 
foFeig;ner5,  and  in  no  way  disposed  to  interfere  vith  foreign 
ccnnmerce.  The  trade  of  Shanghae  has  grown  to  its  present 
mormous  proportions  notwithstanding  their  proximit)',  and 
althoagh  they  have  at  different  periods,  since  the  year  1854, 
spread  their  forces  over  the  greater  portion  of  the  tea  and  silk 
districts.  They  have,  however,  lately  threatened,  in  the  event 
of  the  European  powers  opposing  them,  to  destroy  the  tea  plant. 
We  have  now  endeavoured  to  gfive  our  readers  a  notion  of 
what  the  Taepings  really  are  ;  and,  situated  as  we  are,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  dismiss  on  the  one  hand  the  fancy  that  they  arc 
Christians,  and  od  the  other  hand  to  recc^nise  the  fact  that  thcv 
and  the  Imperialists  are  equally  cruel,  and  that  the  hostilities 
between  them  are  daily  causing  the  most  intense  misery  to 
thousands ;  and  to  consider  what  part  our  duty  requires  us  to 
perform,  what  we  onght  to  do  if  we  can,  and  what  wc  can  do. 
It  is  notorious  that  the  Chinese  waters  swarm  with  pirates, 
the  enemies  of  mankind,  and  we  cannot  do  wrong  in  lending 
our  assistance  to  any  government  to  destroy  them  wherever  they 
may  be  found.  It  is  beyond  question  that  British  property 
ought  to  be  protected  against  all  the  world  in  the  ports  in 
which  British  subjects,  with  the  sanction  of  their  own  Govern- 
ment, reside  and  carry  on  business,  provided  that  these  ports  be 
not  unnecessarily  multiplied,  so  as  to  impose  a  heavy  burden 
npcHi  the  nation  for  the^ood  of  a  few.  But  surely  this  pro- 
tection might  be  afforded  in  most  cases  by  means  less  formidable, 
and  looking  less  like  inter^'cntion  in  the  internal  afiairs  of  China, 
than  the  drawing  a  circle  with  a  radius  of  thirty  miles  round 
each  of  the  sixteen  treaty  ports,  and  declaring  that  we  will  take 
arms  against  any  one  who  comes  within  that  line.  If  our  object 
be,  as  Lord  Palmerston's  language,  in  the  debate  of  the  9th  of 
last  July  would  seem  to  intimate,  to  make  compensation  to  the 
Imperial  Government  for  the  injuries  we  have  inflicted  upon  it, 
by  enabling  it  to  put  down  a  destructive  rebellion,  then  we  cither 
take  upon  ourselves  to  support  the  Mauchu  Government  of  China, 
thus  subjecting  the  people  to  the  most  horrible  t>Tanny ;  or  we 
must  exact  pledges  that  the  power  which  we  bestow  shall  not 
be  abused ;  and  then  the  Empire  of  China  becomes  a  protected 
State,  and  we  become  responsible  for  its  government  We 
cannot  protect  it  in  the  daily  perpetration  of  such  cruelties  as  are 
considered  in  China  mere  matters  of  routine.  Let  it  not  be 
forgotten  that  Yeh  beheaded  seventy  thousand  people  a  very  few 
years  ago  at  Canton.  We  cannot  make  such  a  Government 
merciful  except  by  compulsion.     We  shall  therefore  be  forced 

2  H  2  to 


China—the  Taeping  Rebellion, 


to  interfere  continually,  or  to  become  the  main  support  of  tliOj 
tji-mnt  and  the  oppressor. 

But  is  it  so   certain  tliat  wc  can  set    up   the  Tartar  pntplrt 
again?     Colonel  WnUeley  sees  no  difficulty  In  takiup  Naukiii;! 
and  thinks  it  clear  tliat  the  whole  Taopjng  relx-IIion.   which 
not  becji  joined  by  a  single  man  uf  station  or  rcspcctabilit}',  wouU 
collapse   At   once  if  this  measure  were   adopted.     Commamhi 
Britic  is  of  n  very  different  opinion.    He  thinks  that  if  tlicy  wcr 
driven  out  of  Nankin,  the  Tae|iing^  would  jiiobnbly  thn>sv  thcirJ 
whole  force  upon  the  northern  nrovim-es,  lake  Fekiii,  and  drivi 
the  Kmjwnir  to  Manchuria.      He  thinks  that  the  Tartars  wouk 
pnibably  be  able  to  recover  the  northern  provinces,  but  not 
lying-  south  of  the  Yanff-tsze,  and  that  China  wouhj,  gr<»tly 
its  own  adrantnge,  be  divided  (as  it  was  in  very  ancient  lima] 
Into  two  inde|M>ndent  s«)verci{pnties.      It  alsu  nppcnrs  tu  hiui  pt 
bable  *  that  in  the  event  of  anv  of  the  I'aepin^  chicis  obuiininj 
undisturbed  Kuprcmaey  over  even  the  half  of  China,  at  least  '  tli< 
worship  of  the  (Jne  Active  Supreme  lieiug  (Active,  as  distinct  frot 
the  Frussive  now  believed  in   by  the  mass  of  the  pupuialion)  iriit 
bccimie  prevalent ;  also  that  one  day  in  the  week  will  be  ackmiW' 
ledged,  not  pcihape  us  the  Sabbath  is  in  Christiaa  countiiti 
but  yet  in  &uch  a  comparative  degree  as  will  create  a  break  it 
the  weekly  toil,  and  thus  present  a  marked  improvement  on  thi 
existing  system  of  incessant  lalwur.'  "    But  suppose  tli»?  Tacpinjfl 
utterly  overthrown,  tJiey  cniuiot  all    Itc  put  t<i  death ;  and  tbrt 
arc  many  (Tliinesc  pruvinccs  in  rebellion  besides  those  uccupit 
by  the  Taeptngs. 

Commander  Brine  informs  us  that — 

*  tliurt)    are    at  this  moment  so   many  intlependent  bodies  of  ilunir- 
gcuts  uncoDDuctod  vdth  tho  Tacpings,  that  it  iti  noccsBary  to  onoiocimtii  j 
some  of  them  M>parAtcly.     In  Honan,  tho  latest  rbtums  etatv  tha~ 
thuro  arc  not  Iosh  than  one  hundred  ihonsand  men  nii  in  annis  against^ 
tho  outhoritics.     Tbcso  appear  to  ho  little  better  tliikQ  eommon  nu' 
nnders,  and  are  chiefly  composed  of  the  populations  bordering  on  il 
YeUow  Rivur,  wtio  have  houii  renclored  hunH^lcKM  through  that 
oTcrfiowing  its  hauks.  ■  Boring  the  opui-ulions  of  tho  Ta^jpings 
Mgau-hwui,  the  amucs  ot  tho  latter  woto  frci^ucutly  increased  by 
bodies  of  thcBO  "  Uonau  thieves."     In  tho  pnivincf:   of  81: 
tho  local  rebels  prcacut  a  moro  important  moss,  and  havo  nliown 
aolvea  to  poasesssuDodc^pccof  orgAnixatiou.    The  imp'    ' 
oven  uuder  thoir  boat  gcnoraht,  luivo  found  it  a  matter  of ;.' 
to  overcomo  theni,  and  many  of  tho  actions  fouglit  dnriTig  Uk  Lwt 
in  the  cBSteni  distiiot  have  been  sevorD  and    well    eonti^tctl. 


•  Pog*  354. 


Sa-chueu, 


d 


Cliiaa^-tke  Tapping  Rebeihon.  531 

SK-chnen,  in  addition  to  nnmerotia'  petty  bonds  of  malcciiteiitis 
Shih-tah-kae,  a  Taeping  chie^  is  at  the  head  of  an  annj  of  serenty 
thousand  men,  and  is  said  to  be  obtaining  a  series  of  soccesoes.  It  is 
probaUs  that  he  will  set  np  his  own  Btandard,  and  separate  himself 
from  his  proper  leader. 

'  Ynnnan  is  also  in  great  commotion ;  but  the  ontiages  in  thi^  pro- 
Tince  are  mainly  committed  bj  the  Mahometan  popttlation,  and  there 
is  DO  organized  rebel  force. 

*  Kwang-Bi  and  Kwang-tong  are  in  their  normal  state  of  disoSeetion. 
In  the  ionner  province,  besides  the  constant  troobles  occasioned  by 
the  Uiao-tze,  the  conntry  isoreironby  TCTyeomaidaaMeanni-d  bodifca 
of  insurgents.  Sopme  notion  may  be  formed  of  their  strength  by  the 
&ct  that,  eatlj  in  1861,  above  ssrenty-^Te  thooauid  of  them,  enable 
to  orercome  die  Goremment  troops  and  set  up  their  own  indepemlent 
rule,  formed  tbemselTes  under  one  general,  and  marched  three  hmdred 
miles  north  to  join  the  Taepings.  The  greater  portion  of  the  hi-kianj; 
(Western  Biver),  the  most  important  commercial  river  in  the  sooth  of 
China,  is  entirely  nnder  rebel  controL'aiui  many  of  the  eitujs  on  its 
banks  are  the  ever-redtrring  scenes  of  capinre  and  reeaptnre.  From 
other  pnyvinees  there  are  reports  of  immetoiis  revolts ;  but,  without 
anoding  to  these,  enoi^  instances  have  been  broogbl  forward  to 
evidence  the  teiriUy  disos^anized  condition  of  the  covntry/ 

Is  it  not  certain  diat  the  Taepin^  if  broken  ap  alAO^  tfa« 
jn^at  line  of  die  river,  where  alooe  we  can  reach  thcin,  will  Join 
the  Taepin^i  in  other  dutricts,  or  will  athl  themjelres  Ut  tiut 
bands  of  rebels  alrcAdr  on  ff»t  in  sncb  ennrmoos  nam^«n? 
The  Maacfan  GoTemmcot  has  manifestly  Io»t  its  main  ^irine,  as 
anr  Go>Tei|inient  mm£  have  dAoe  before  there  can  be  a  qivsdoa 
of  calling  in  foreigners  to  fio  Its  work  tor  It.  The-  Biihr>p  of 
Victoria  writes  (mm  Pckln.  in  Mav  last,  tha:  Hut  tanst  saaxQin^ 
Europeans  with  wbAca  be  has  there  asaoci.-i:mi  zmcrallv  cocr.nr  in 
the  view  dkaC  the  ChinenK  Imperial  dToasCT  is  oa  the  v<n:z«  oc 
destnirtionr  and  tbat  anarchT  aod  dIsor>ler  are  6or  cte  tZou^  die 
most  prvjbaUe  resah;. 

Mr.  Forrest  »eea 

*  BO  bof*  «#  ^K  T^'.pcn^  b>b»aif%z  U£  •Limiaanc  p«w<ir  la  Cii£3% 
limiMt  ihtj  are  um^Ij  znahU:  b^  p^v^n.  CiemaelTfiM.  »r  :eiit  if  a 
^eeies  et  arjKt  oc^wsucaabfe  terr-jsan.  Bus  rifidier  ^.  1  mjt  a.j 
pro^att  «f  ^  llti£ch><>-.if  ninimtxsn:t  :&i'iimel-w»  in  s:  ir  ixss^a 
pOBtiejO.  Tbtut  &■  a/jTh.  'x  Ibw  rttl*iiI5:ii  sni  iI'vit^  T  leTjmir  s 
evety  fvr/vEBfW  Axenft  ^tbt  hl  *rHiuk.  >}metncnE  -rH.  f  cac  tr'.ia. 
tins  slalft  fA  Smviix  to  tuAJK  CF&ai  at  3bs  aeen  -ste  ::iat  a  cua^ 
tinM*  hetam  ia  de  mfcre.'' 

TLe  Bttiwiip  crj«i:eiiBrpia.vs  as  jabahis 

*  Aft  i^rulnal  aJ-Mcxyifja  'i  4icnniL^acri>:   y,^v^  ^un  ^n  Jooiu  'it 

"FtrTian uti  <E%aCT  ■■'*t^—'  ijs  soit  i&w  cansiiac  i>'cv..  miL  af?  cntuml 


532 


CAiaa — Uk  Taepinff  ^eifeiHon, 


oxtemiou  of  an  unod  foreif(D  proteciorato  over  ths  «4iBfiaii 
of  country;   tad  foreecoR  B«rious  uid   itcn'lotu  oompUoatiaaR  aad 
inisiuid«t«taii<liDgH  between  the  priDciji&l  powers  of  ta»  West— i 
coptscinUjr  between  Kogland  and  Frmcc— in  tlie  •^jn'^ii^^'Bt  of_ 
impcucUng  diflkiUtice  in  the  threatoned  dJssulntiun  of  tlia 
empire.' 


Bui  Commander  Brinr;  rt»nsiiIrrB  that  thp  ipirit  and  intelli 
of  tlir  (^hinesu^   proph?   n?iHlc-r   It  rxtTunu-Ij-  urilikflv  llu»t  Chi 
shnnhl  fnll  untlcr  tliL*  ruin  of   one  of  the  Wcstcra  Powers,  and 
f>;ovrnii'<l  iu  the  samu  maiuiet  as  lirituh  India. 

The  line  ot  policy  actually  piinued  bj  the  English  autboritJa 
in  China  dit&rs  widolv  froni  what  we  had  nntiripated,  and  from 
wlint  the  Inn^mgp  nf  thtr  Fnrri^'n  SccMVtarv  had  l«l  us  to  cxpiwt, 
for  thi'V  hare,  iu  roncert  with  thi>  French  iroojM,  retaken  Nin«)i» 
from  the  relx'Is  and  given  it  back  to  the  Imperialists  ;  r(^*ulse(l»^ 
t'eeble  attack  on  Shanghae  (the  French  bumine  dnwn  for  miUta 
reasons  a  suburbof  that  city  full  4>rtlicuiusl  valuable  mcrchandispji 
and  undertaken  an  Inland  expedition  utMin  lOiicU  it  Is  not  nrca>- 
sary  here  to  dwell.  Moi-eover,  it  wuuld  appear  that  wc  are  to 
defend  for  the  Imperial  Government  the  whole  of  the  siztMfl 
Treaty  Ports,  besides  permitting  some  of  our  oflicers  to  ukf 
service  under  the  Kmpcmr^if  China.  Wc  confess  k  appears 
us  that  this  is  undertaking  more  than  Great  Britain  is  at  all  di 
puscd  to  sanction,  and  we  earnestly  hope  that  our  interfcrcin 
may  be  reduced  within  the  narrowest  limits  consistent  with 
ilue  protection  of  our  trade  with  a  country  containtn|f,  we  an 
tuM,  immense  coal  deposits,  .ind  full  of  undeveloped  wealth. 

VV'c  wish  all  success   to    Captain  SKcrard  Osbom,    the   dc 
tinguishi-d  officer  who  is  about  to  undertake  the  task  of  dcstroyi: 
ihe   Chinese   pirates,  and   restoring   jM-ace  and   security  upon  I 
seas  nnd  the  rivers.     We  feel  very  sure  that  he  will  never 
those  with  whom  he  may  be  associated  to  practise  liie  crvelt 
which  would,  in  his  absence,  be  with  them  a  matter  of 
But  in    proportion   as  the   service    is  distant,   the  Gorcrnm 
iBirbnron!,  friends  and  fiics  little  nndcrstood,  will  lie  the  absolnti" 
necessity  trf  refusing  to  cooperate  with  anv  authorities  wh"  will 
not  adopr  tlie  pro|)er  usages  of  war.      We  eamestiv  hope  ih.tt  tl 
civil  wars  of  China  will  be  permitted  ti>  adjust  themselves  witbo 
our  interlrrenec  ;  and  that  it  may  never  be  said  that,  for  the  pi 
pose  of  promoting   our   mercantile  interests,    wc   cadeavou 
to  perprtiate  an  cflele  tymnny.      Laving  aside   the  painful  cu. 
siileration!)  bi  which  we  have  adverted,  we  should  have  reud  »i 


to 

I 


*  Tbt  *  Churvb  HtHion  B«cora.*  Oct.  \»i%  p.  310. 


mi 


isnl 


2^ 


d 


C/min-~the  Taepinff  Rehellum. 


533 


uninlxe<l  Mtisfaction  Captain  Blokiston's  spirited  btk]  wdl- 
ilhisrrated  ncroiint  of  his  voj-age  up  the  noble  I'ang-tsze. 

!t  is  well  kn«»wn  that  Admiral  Hope's  expedition  ascendetl 
thp  river,  to  the  distaiicr  of  750  miles  from  the  sen,  ami  th;il  his 
visit  TPviveil  the  spirits  and  confidence  of  the  inlinliitants,  and  at 
once  covered  the  river  with  produce  $eekinff  a  profitable  market 
■t  our  trading  stations.  But  Captain  Blakiston'i  pany,  con- 
listinf?  of  himself,  a  brotlier  officer,  a  cler^man,  and  a  doctor, 
ascended  morn  than  a  thousand  miles  fartlicr,  in  the  hnjie  (a  vain 
one  as  it  proved)  of  beixif?  ablr  to  rrnss  Thibi^t  into  India,  They 
sailed  all  litis  way  with  littit?  difliculty,  and  saw  a  vitst  ran^o 
of  country,  into  which  we  would  gladly  accompany  them ;  but 
our  limits  forbid  the  attempt. 

We  quote  one  passage  as  a  .  specimen  of  what  Captain 
Blakiston  saw  and  of  his  mode  of  describing  it: — 

*  Tlio  country  oraoud  Quai-cbow  affnnled  a  grent,  and  to  mo  a  ni<>t4 
ngittenble,  contrast  to  the  gorgos,  boing  under  oiiltivntioii  to  a  con- 
siderable extent ;  and  we  obfierred  peas,  beans,  millet,  "  durra  "  (like 
largo  millet),  barley,  and  bear«led  wheet,  besides  mRlonK  and  nthc7 
garden  vcKctables.  Thoro  were  also  tho  eastor-oil  plant,  pcachoa, 
apricots,  water-melons,  hawtliorn,  honeysuckle,  and  poplars,  while  the 
•'  Tnng-fthn  '*  tree,  with  the  poiKonoiw  fniit  oalltHi  "  Tuu^-lxwi," 
before  mentioned,  waa  very  common.  Wo  saw  thick-ohullcrl  walnuts, 
but  not  growing.  A  kind  of  dye  liko  indigo,  if  it  Ib  not  it,  is  grown 
in  tbiit  |>art,  iKiing  iekbi)  for  noluuriiig  iho  blun  lytttonB.  The  nttiton 
waa  BO  far  arlvAucod,  although  it  was  not  yet  the  middle  of  April,  that 
wheat  00(1  barley  were  weU  in  tibo  ear,  and  peoa  and  beans  almost 
matnrQ, 

*  It  was  in  thta  neighbourhood  that  wc  first  obacrTcd  tho  poppy 
ctiltiviitcd.  and  heoce  onwonls  it  wan  Ttiry  common ;  and,  from  the 
amount  whiub  wo  saw  along  tl»i  liaiikH  uf  thi-  river,  it  would  anjiiur 
that  Oie  quantity  of  opium  nutted  in  Sa'chtiou  must  be  tery  largo. 
lu  Uiii  same  potcfa  one  seed  pink,  lilac,  and  white  flowem,  and  the 
appcaruiou  of  tbo  buds  of  poppicH  on  tho  tcrraouB  of  the  bill-sidea 
among  tha  other  crops  ia  very  beautiful,  'ftlien  tho  flower  dies  off, 
the  8^-pod,  or  head,  ia  aoored  with  cereral  out«  Terticnlly,  from 
which  OOZAS  a  sabaUnoe  of  tho  appinrAnce  of  freahly  wariuud  glue ; 
tbia  is  collected  by  the  farmers  and  their  families,  who  scrape  it  off 
with  a  knife  and  deposit  it  in  a  little  pot  which  each  poraon  oairiett 
fur  Ihu  purprnu',  and  tho  operation  ia  rupoatod  eveiy  two  or  threo 
dayt^  aeoording  to  thn  utate  of  tho  weather,  which  infloeDCM  tho  yield. 
Tho  phukUi  were  considered  hy  one  of  our  party,  who  was  competant 
to  '^ivu  on  opinion.  a«  cquiU  to  tLusu  of  ludiik  The  pneo  of  opinm  at 
Onoi-ehow  was  SOOO  cosh  per  catty,  and  wc  paid  sabHocjnently  at 
Chnng-king  3K0  cofth  per  tael  weight  for  some  which  we  brought 
down  as  aamplo,  and  whiob  was  prooouuoed  veijr  puro.      It  diflferdd 

fntui 


5S4 


China — tlie  Tijejnup  BehfUicn, 


from  tiio  Indian  di-ug  iu  buiog  of  a  dnvkor  oolour ;  nnd  ibo  rtenM 
an  analviiU  at  tbo  guvcnuneut  oHtablifthmeot  proves  Umt  it  may  well 
compoUi  ^nt1l  tlio  Mr-fiuuud  "  PiUuo."  A  gruat  deal  uf  opium  ii;  cx- 
porU-tl  from  tbo  proviiico  of  Sz'ctiuiai,  iuidiiig  \\»  way  to  the  Koiithom 
aad  central  parts  of  CMna ;  and  tbis  ncconntA  for  tbo  iupoBsibility  cf , 
gottiog  rid  of  a  bir^  supply  wbJcb  was  sent  np  tbe  Yang'tiizo  tA 
Haokow  on  Kpee.  on  tbo  opcniag  nf  that  port  to  fmcieD  tmdc ;  uid 
ftlthotigb  liritish  merchants  have  the  credit  of  pcnsonutg  tbo  whole 
OhinBBO  nation,  I  think  it  will  bo  found  that  their  tnde  is  Wit  very 
much  oitendcd  boynnd  tlio  coa^i.  A  limited  amount  of  the  Indian 
Opium  no  donbt  idn-nys  goc»  np  coimiry,  because  tboso  who  arc  able 
to  pfty  for  it  will  nso  it  in  prcfcrcnco  to  the  nativo  psoduoo ;  "  a 
caprice,"  att  Hue  imya,  "only  to  liu  atxuuutul  for  frnm  tlio  vnnity 
the  rich  Chinese,  wbo  would  think  it  beneath  them  to  smoke  opitun 
native  production ;"  jnst  lu  in  our  ootmtry  the  productions  or  niana 
faoturoB  of  other  loiuU  ivru  oftuu  preforrud  to  thosu  uf  homo,  i^uch  i 
fuihiunf  aud  such  1  suppoee  it  mil  always  be.  Thig  i«  doubtlo«B 
important  qnctttiou  with  the  govenuuent  of  India,  for  at  the  p 
bigb  pricu  nf  tho  dm;;  from  that  country  it  cannot  pOEsildy  campol 
with  tbnt  of  Sz'chuuu. 

'Tho  puppy  crop  is  over  by  the  end  of  May,  and  is  foUuweJ  by 
HUjjiir-caiio,  indian-com,  and  in  Bome  distrlcta  cotton.     Hue  inruti 
Hint  for  Roverol  yenni  bcforo  1H46  Indian  opium  waft  largely  Muu^jgl 
into  Sx'chtum,  through  Yn-non  and  Burmali,  and  tbot  on  hx&  way  I 
rKci>rt  vftut  iucruasud  for  fear  of  muetiug  with  the  Bmugglom,  w 
tr»vellc4l  in  bands  quite  openly  in  defiance  of  tho  law.     I  liavn 
niiu-k«d  furthermore  timt  tbe  wurtliy  mistuocury  doeA  nut  mention 
word  ubout  Uie  growing  of  Lho  poppy  in  SKV-huau;  but  tba  rcaaun 
tUi^  may  be  that  he  trAversed  tbnt  proviuco  too  late  in  tbn  aouno.  tod 
obwtTTo  it  under  cultivation.     Still  ono  wonid  think  timt,  aq  the 
roughly  Its  ho  exbauBt^  CTcry  Bubject  on  which  be  treats,  ho  wool 
luivo  told  us  if  the  drug  wiis  gron'n  at  all  iu  tho  proviuc-c  Into  wide: 
ho  Bays  it  was  smngglod.     May  wo  iid'or  fri>m  his  silonco  that 
Fl>ecic8  of  agricnltai-o  hoe  only  grown  up  of  Into  years  ?    If  so,  it 
most  likely  but  in  ibi  inftuicy,  and  wo  luay  livo  to  seo  a  port  of  1 
pi-ophccy  carried  out  by  "  Uio  Englitdi  going  to  buy  opium  in  the] 
purtH  of  China."     Yet  all  this  ciiUiTntion   -for  it  is  said  to  bu 
grown  cxtcufiiTcly  in  tha  ^outh-wcstem  provinces — and  consaiu])ti' 
of  opium,  ore  in  violation  of  the  law,  imd  furuisb  only  another  i 
stance  uf  tbi;  nnivorHil  stato  of  decay  uf  tho  govommcnt   of 
wondci-fnl  coimtry,  where,  to  me  the  words  of  Hoc  again,  **  piprt 
htni{>s,  and  all  the  apparatus  for  smoking  opium,  are  sold  puhliirly 
every  t«>wM,  and  Lbo  mondoriiui  UicmHclves  nro  the  fintt  t4t  violate  tl 
law  luid  give  this  biul  example  to  tlio  people,  oron  iu  the  cfflirti 
judtice."  ' 


(    535    ) 


Art.  Vni. — 1.  North  America.     By  Anthony  Tiollope.    2  vols. 
London,  18(>2. 

2.  The    South    Vindicated.      By   the   Hon.    J.    Williams,    late 
American  Minister  to  Turkey.     London,  18G2. 

3.  Tlie  Recognition  of  the  Southern  Confederation.     By  J.  Spence. 
London,  1862. 

4.  UiiioJif    Disunion,  and  Reunion.     By  John   O'Sullivan,  late 
Minister  of  the  United  States  to  Portugal,     London,  1802. 

5.  Memoirs  of  Tliomas  Bewick.      Newcastle  and  London,   18G0. 

6.  7^e  Life  and  Letters  of  Washinr/ton  Ircing.     By  his  Ncjdiow, 
P.  Irving.     2  vols.     London,  1861. 

AMONG  many  strange  things  in  the  conduct  of  tlie  Federals 
during  the  course  of  this  terrible  war,  one  of  the  strangest 
has  been  the  value  they  have  attached  to  English  expressions  of 
opinion.  It  is  certainly  not  in  repayment  of  any  similar 
compliment  from  us.  During  the  Hussian  war  and  the  Indian 
mutiny,  American  comments  upon  England's  conduct  were  not 
-restrained  or  weakened  by  any  false  tenderness  for  our  suscepti- 
bilities. The  sy*npathy  of  our  kinsmen  for  any  one,  whether 
Czar  or  Sepoy,  whose  conduct  was  embarrassing  to  England,  was 
cxj)ressed  with  the  most  demonstrative  cordiality,  and  spiced 
with  all  the  verbal  condiments  with  which  they  know  how  tn 
flavour  the  insipidity  of  political  discussion.  Vet  we  cannot 
remember  that  their  noisy  criticism  provoked  any  feeling,  gooti, 
bad,  or  indifferent,  in  London.  Nobody  knew  what  the  Americans 
were  saying,  or  cared  to  ask.  Tlie  opinion  of  New  York  upon 
the  subject  was  of  no  more  practical  impoilance  than  the  opinion  , 
of  Rio  Janeiro.  And  as  a  question  of  sentiment,  it  was  a  matter 
of  profound  indifference  to  us  whether  our  neighbours  praised  or 
blamed  us.  The  magnitude  of  the  perils  we  had  to  meet,  and 
the  arduous  exertions  we  were  called  upon  to  make,  were  subjects 
of  anxiety  too  engrossing  to  leave  us  much  leisure  to  a^k  what 
others  thought  of  us.  The  solicitude,  therefore,  with  which  the 
Americans  scan  our  newspapers,  watch  the  speeches  of  our  public 
men,  and  scrutinize  every  vehicle  of  English  opinion,  in  order 
to  discover  some  phrase  or  sentiment  distasteful  to  themselves, 
is  absolutely  inexplicable  to  us.  One  would  have  thought  that 
a  bloody  civil  war,  a  broken  empire,  and  ruined  liberties,  would 
have  left  little  room  in  dieir  minds  for  susceptibility  to  the  criti- 
cisms of  foreigners. 

If  they  are  resolved  to  overhear  the  discussions  we  carry  on 
among  ourselves  upon  the  events  which  cause  us  so  much  domestic 

misery, 


miseiv,  wi*  ^\<^  not  deny  that  they  are  likely  to  suffer  a  Hstenef» 
proverbial  fate.  There  are  many  pointx  in  the  strictures  which 
the  mass  of  Enf^Ushmcn  make  upon  this  war  which  must  be  very 
distasteful  to  tho  Feiierals.  Knglish  ippinion  has  wavered  a  (food 
ilc-al ;  Imt  it  is  in  the  main  nnfavounihle  tii  them  now.  WHien 
the  war  broke  out  the  general  bins  was  £lig;hlly  Northern.  The 
recent  reception  of  the  I'riuce  of  Wales  bad  made  a  farourabic 
impression;  ajid  it  was  not  till  the  affair  of  the  'Trent'  tbat  thai 
impression  was  wholly  elTaccd.  Then  the  real  issues  of  the  war 
were  a  gtMid  deal  niisapprchende<l  just  at  first.  The  primAJiidt 
interpretation  nI'  the  Sc^eession  movement  was,  that  the  sJave> 
t>wncrs  dtsired  to  subjeet  more  teiTJtiiry  to  slavery  ;  and  that  iher 
had  rebelled  because  the  North  had  been  inspired,  by  a  hnly 
horror  of  »lavcrk%  to  resist  this  unhallowed  project.  This  view  of 
the  facts  was  unquestionably  true  to  a  certain  extent ;  and  nt  first 
it  was  believeil  in  Knglantl  to  be  tlie  whole  truth.  So  Itm^  as 
this  impression  was  entertained,  it  could  not  be  doabtful  which 
M'av  tbe  sympathies  of  Englishmen  would  incline.  The  aoti- 
slnvery  movement  was  no  longer  in  its  first  vigoiu*;  hut  it  stilt 
retained  power  enou^jh  to  pletlge  Kn^jflnnd  to  look  with  aversion 
upon  a  revolution  rommenee<l  for  tlie  purpose  of  perjietuatiiig 
slavery.  But  as  lime  went  on,  and  the  issues  of  tbe  war  came 
out  more  clearly,  this  spring  of  Norllu^m  symjialhies  liegau  lo 
fail.  It  soon  became  ap^tarent  lliat  tlie  grievance  of  the  Soutb 
went  very  far  beyond  the  mere  refusal  to  allow  slaves  to  be  held 
in  the  territories  of  the  United  States ;  and  it  became  still  more 
clear  that  whatever  the  North  were  fighting  for,  it  was  not  for 
the  emanci|)ation  of  tlie  negro.  It  was  im|H)»sible  to  continue 
to  believe  that  the  North  were  crusading  fur  al>olitif>D,  in  the 
face  of  the  President's  reiterated  denials;,  and  of  the  inhuman 
treatment  which  nt^roes  were  constantly  rcceiinng  at  Nortbem 
hands.  U  anything  was  wanting  to  confirm  their  scrptirisro,  it 
has  Ijcen  supplied  by  the  President's  recent  pr<)cl.-imnlion.  Tbal 
he  should  have  reserved  Emancipation  to  be  the  military  resource 
of  bis  extreme  necessity,  shows  how  little  be  cared  for  it  as  a 
pbilanthmpist.*     lie  ^'alue-s  it,  not  for  tbe  freedom  it  may  coitfef, 

but 


*  Mr.  S«ward's  cirmlrir  of  September  33,  1863,  yatt  the  moatarp  do  its  tivp 
fbotiiiK  : — '  I  hKve  alrvndy  informed  our  reprewnUitiTc*  abrad  c>r  llie  aiiiTrasch 
wf  »  diuDge  in  lUe  social  orj^iiiiniuui  of  the  rebel  Stati'S.  This  clinngc  coiitiauc* 
to  make  itMlf  cat:h  <lav  more  utid  inon-  upport-nt.  In  tlie  opiaiua  ortlio  Proidupt 
tliv  moowut  has  cdinr  (u  \>\nvv  ihc  ;n'i'al  liicl  more  clearly  before  tlu^  |ton]i|p  of  tfac 
rebel  Stsu*.  and  to  m&kc  them  nudcnttunl  ibit  •/  ikew  Slat«s  ptniti  in  iinpOMR); 
upon  the  oouniry  th«  ctioico  belw<.-eu  ttic  diuuluiioii  cf  tliU  UgvcmtUEiil,  at  vaee 
oKvKsaiy  sad  WDeficiul,  sad  t]ie  abolition  of  KioTtiry,  U  h  tUf  Unittu,  and  not 

sUmr, 


^ 
I 


and  Beoognition.  537 

but  foT  the  cftmage  be  hopes  that  it  may  cause.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  the  absolute  quiescence  ojf  the  n^roes  under  cir- 
cumstances which  in  Jamaica  or  Hayti  would  have  excited  a 
bloody  revolt,  is  a  cogent  answer  to  the  sensation  descriptions 
of  the  '  Uncle  Tom '  school  which  have  worked  so  powerfully  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

But  the  practical  argument  against  the  North  is  the  one  that 
has  weighed  the  most  heavily  here.  War  of  any  kind  is  only 
excnsable  when  it  is  waged  with  a  tolerable  likelihood  of 
success.  A  war  for  a  reconstruction  of  the  Union  bore  failure 
upon  its  face.  The  conquest  of  the  South  was  a  difficult  under- 
taking, but  it  was  not  necessarily  impossible.  It  might  have 
been  done,  if  the  North  could  have  found  a  Napoleon,  and  would 
have  placed  themselves  unreservedly  under  his  command.  Even 
without  a  Napoleon,  but  with  generals  of  average  ability,  they 
might  have  carried  devastation  far  and  wide  through  the  South. 
But  to  compel  the  Southerners  to  return  as  willing  citizens  and 
take  their  part  as  of  old  in  the  political  mechanism  of  the 
Republic,  was  an  undertaking  beyond  the  power  of  the  highest 
genius  and  the  mightiest  armies.  It  was  impossible  for 
Englishmen  to  sympathize  in  a  war  which  could  have  no  end 
but  desolation.  And  it  was  impossible  for  the  keenest  friend  of 
the  Federals  not  to  mark  how  the  war  grew  in  horror  as  it 
progressed,  and  developed  more  and  more  the  character  of  a 
mere  war  of  revenge.  The  objectless  devastation  perpetrated 
by  Pope  and  Blenker — men  dragged  from  their  homes  and 
shot  in  the  presence  of  their  wives  and  children,  without  a 
pretence  of  trial,  as  in  Missouri — young  girls  deliberately  given 
over  to  a  brutal  soldiery  by  Federal  commanders,  as  at  Athens — 
women  adjudged  by  public  proclamation  to  suffer  the  vilest 
outrage  for  speaking,  or  even  looking  as  though  they  loved  the 
cause  for  which  their  brothers  and  husbands  were  dying,  as 
at  New  Orleans — all  these  things  fell  lightly  on  the  ears  of  the 
Federals  themselves,  but  they  have  sunk  deep  into  the  hearts  of 
Englishmen.  We  must  have  bidden  farewell  to  every  feeling 
bolJb  of  humanity  and  honour  before  we  can  sympathize  with  a 
war  of  this  kind,  or  with  the  men  who  wage  it 

ilaveiy,  that  must  be  aiaiotained  and  saved.  With  this  object  the  Preudent  i§ 
about  to  publish  a  proctamatioa  in  which  he  anDounras  that  elaTcry  vtll  do  lo&ger 
be  recognized  in  aiiy  of  the  Sltiie^  wfitcft  nhall  he  in  rtbeUion  on  the  Id  of  Jautuiry 
not.  While  all  tbe  good  and  wise  men  of  all  countries  will  recognize  this  mea- 
sure as  a  jtut  and  proper  military  ad,  intendtil  to  deliver  the  country  from  n 
terrible  civil  war,  tlioy  will  recognize  at  the  same  time  the  moderation  and  mag- 
nauimitr  with  which  the  Govenimcnt  proceeds  in  a  matter  so  solemn  and  im- 
portant. 

But 


I 


But  tlierc  u  no  doubt  tliAt  American  proceeding  wonld  Wc 
been  discussed  less  eai^erl}'  in  Eu|;tBnd,  and  p(»BiMy  criticised 
with  less  irccdoin,  il"  thcj  had  inn  Wen  mndo  the  turning  jwiint 
oi'  n  political  contrtn'ersy  of  our  awn.  For  a  preat  numhi>r  of 
yt^nrs  a  certain  jsirty  finmnp  us,  great  {ulmirers  of  America,  who 
«ven  in  this  last  extremity  still  worship  faithlully  at  the  old 
shrine,  have  rho&cn  to  fight  their  Knglish  battles  upon  American 
ioil.  That  their  antagonists  shoulrl  foll.iw  tliem  there  is  one  of 
the  inevitable  csiigencies  of  war.  Those  who  orig^inally  rhoac 
the  Ijattle-ficid  must  be  iiesponsible  lor  the  choice — not  thiMP  ^ 
who  perforce  accepted  it.  If  Knf^lishmen  have  taken  nlmo&t  a  ^| 
dumestjc  Interest  in  Ainericin  institutions — if  tlicy  have  watched  " 
thi:S,  their  fir^it  ordeal,  with  [)C€utiar  solicitude,  and  have  passed 
their<'onimeHti<mit  with  outspoken  frer*lom, — the  Ki'dcrals  must 
impute  it  entirely  lo  the  indiscreet  fervour  of  their  own  jioniruhir 
friends. 

'riie  impression  produowl  upon  the  majority  of  spectators  in 
Hn;;lnnd  has  undoubteiUy  been  that  democratic  institutions  hnva 
failetl.  I'rolNibly  this  feclinp  would  not  have  been  m»  tn'oeml  or 
so  derided  if  the  peculiar  virtue  of  demotrratic  institutions  hail 
not  bren  si>  strtnuiously  vnunteil.  Ilieir  iu1vurati>s  now  tell  us 
th:il  the  American  civil  war  is  not  the  first  civil  war  on  record, 
and  that  the  evil  passions  of  wliich  it  Is  the  fruit,  and  the  evil 
tleotU  of  which  It  has  been  the  parent,  have  many  a  precetlent  in 
monarchical  and  aristucratical  states.  To  a  certain  extent  this  n 
true.  But  this  is  not  tJie  tone  in  which  they  were  wont  lo  apfok 
before  tlu'  war  broke  out.  If  Mr.  Brlg^ht  or  his  friends  had  1)001 
formerly  content  to  claim  for  their  pet  dcmocracv  notliin^  more 
ilutn  that  it  was  no  worse  tlum  some  of  the  old  Kuropean  mo- 
narchies, few  people  would  have  cared  to  question  their  modest 
jmnegvric.  Rut  it  is  the  back^rouml  of  their  extrava^^ant  ndular 
tion  which  t]m>ws  forward  into  so  strmi^  a  relief  tlie  calamities 
under  which  the  Americans  are  suflTering.  They  never  cea*od  to 
assure  us  that  democracy  was  a  cure  lor  war,  for  revolution,  for 
extravagance,  for  corruption,  for  nepotism,  for  class  lefp^lation, 
qik),  in  short,  for  nil  the  evils  with  which  ilic  states  of  liluropc 
nre  fiiiniliar.  It  is  loo  late  for  them,  now  that  America  is  a  prey 
to  all  these  uld^wurld  maladies  at  once,  to  tuni  round  and  tell  us 
that  the  model  Hepuhlic  Is  no  worse  than  an  aveiage  despotism, 
or  no  woise  than  Kn^Iand  was  four  hundrnl  vcars  a^u.  For 
years  they  have  been  proi'Ialmiog  to  us  that  it  is  infinitely  better. 
I-'or  yeans  America's  small  debt  and  scanty  estimates  have  l>een 
the  text  u|Hm  »hich  homilies  to  corrupt,  extravagant  old  luiglond 
have  been  preached.  For  years  these  have  furuislicti  the  tri- 
umphant 


I 

h 

i 


d 


and  BdcoffniHon.  539 

nmphant  proof  that  political  equality  was  the  parent  of  pacific 
and  thrifty  government.  A  twelvemonth  of  stem  experience  has 
covered  with  confusion  the  foolish  boasting  of  twenty  years.  A 
man  would  be  laughed  at  now  who  should  claim  for  democracy 
any  special  thrift,  or  purity,  or  love  of  peace.  Its  keenest 
admirers  will  hardly  venture  to  invest  it  with  those  particular 
virtues  just  at  present  But  yet,  if  the  admirers  of  America  had 
had  their  way  two  or  three  years  back,  we  should  have  altered 
our  well-tried  institutions  for  the  sake  of  curing  that  lavishnr^ 
of  expenditure  and  that  pugnacious  policy  which  we  were  told 
was  the  special  disease  of  an  aristocratic  system,  and  from  which 
democracy  had  made  America  so  gloriously  free. 

Sometlung  of  the  same  efiect  upon  English  opinion  has  been 
produced  by  the  eulogies  of  American  freedom  with  which  our 
ears  have  been  incessantly  regaled.  Long  before  the  days  of 
Mr.  Bright  they  formed  the  favourite  commonplace  of  democratic 
orators  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  We  have  placed  at  the 
head  of  this  article  the  names  of  two  books,  published  during 
the  present  year,  which  contain  a  curious  reconl  of  the  vaunting 
prophecies  in  rc^rd  to  America  in  which  the  Liberal  party  of  old 
and  those  connected  with  them  delighted  to  indulge.  It  is  instruc- 
tive to  compare  the  America  of  reality  with  the  America  of 
partisan  preidiction.  Our  first  extract  is  fitjm  the  reflections 
penned  by  Mr.  Bewick,  in  1822: — 

*  George  III.  and  his  advisers  never  contemplated  the  mighfy 
events  they  were  thus  bringing  about — rearing  and  establishing  tlui 
wisest  and  greatest  of  republics  and  nations  the  world  over  saw. 
When  its  enormouB  territory  is  filled  with  an  enlightened  population, 
and  its  government,  like  a  rock,  founded  on  the  rights  and  libcrtios  of 
man,  it  is  beyond  human  comprehension  to  foresee  the  strides  the 
nation  will  moke  towards  perfection.  It  is  likely  they  will  cast  a 
compassionate  eye  on  the  rest  of  the  world  grovelling  under  arbitrary 
power,  banish  it  &om  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  level  despots  with  tho 
ground.'  * 

Tliey  will  have  to  commence  this  compassionate  operation  with 
their  own  territory,  and  their  own  President,  if  they  are  to  fulfil 
the  prophecy.  Our  next  extract  sliall  be  from  a  speech  of  Mr. 
Washington  Irving's,  delivered  at  New  York  thirty  years  ago : — • 

*  It  has  been  asked,  Can  I  be  content  to  live  in  this  country  ?  Who- 
ever asks  that  question  must  have  an  inadequate  idea  of  its  bleestngs 

*  Mr.  Bewick  was  a  better  artist  ajid  natanliat  than  he  was  a  politidan  or 
phiioeophpr,  and  the  book,  a  veiy  baodsome  one,  contwns  an  intererting  record 
of  the  growth  of  an  active  and  onginal  mind,  and  a  curioos  glimpse  at  the  life  of 
the  old  jeomanrj-  of  the  north. 

and 


340 


Tite  Cmfederate  Struffffk 


uiddeligbte.  Wlist  Baoriflcoof  eqjopitentslinTc  1 1»  reconcila  inysnlf 
to  ?  I  come  from  coLitriea  coworing  wM  Jonbt  and  rfoi^rer,  «here  tk* 
rich  Man  trniAlea  and  the  pour  mmi  fromtB — mhtre  aU  repMr  at  At  pr^ 
MMt  and  tlread  Iheftiinrt.  I  C(>mo  froiQ  tltoao  to  ttcooatry  wlura  kll 
U  tifd  Attd  auiioation — -where  I  hear  ou  evuiy  aido  tliu  boudJ  of  exollB- 
tion — whoru  wary  oiiu  Bpoaks  uf  tlu*  piuit  witli  triuuiiili,  thu  prtiMUt 
with  delight,  the  Itibiro  with  growiog  uid  confideot  anticipAtiuu.' 

Mr.  Irving  has  not  lived  to  sec  tbp  insults  be  cast  upon  England 
— doubly  bittor  as  coming  from  one  who  had  Iwen  cKerishrd 
nmring'  us  for  years  till  his  own  coiintrynipn,  equally  with  nor- 
selvci,  reganled  him  as  almost  nn  Knglishman — rotnrtcd  hy 
VaUi  uj>on  the  people  for  the  sake  of  whose  applause  he  uttrrcd 
thcin.  The  same  tradition  kns  been  carried  on  by  the  pro* 
phets  of  a.  later  day.  It  would  1>e  endless  to  quote  tlie  pane- 
j*yri<'s  and  prwlictions  of  Mr.  Bright.  So  late  as  May  last, 
he  OfHild  venture  to  congratuhilp  thn  Northrm  States  as  beini; 
the  freest  country  on  the-  face  of  the  earth.  Ht-,  and  the  other 
admirers  of  America,  have  always  been  peculiarly  severe  upon 
the  mcasurea  of  repression  which  in  times  o(  public  liangrr 
ICngttsli  g<ivtrrnmrnts  hn%'e  thought  it  necessary  to  atlnpt :  and 
they  haw  Itecn  li>ud  in  their  admiration  of  die  libcrrty,  nvrrstpppin([ 
ihn  Imunds  of  licenfie,  with  which  Amerii-iina  have  till  rrceatlv 
disputed,  almost  at  will,  the  derisions  of  their  OuvemTncnt. 
'Iliey  have  alwavs  warmly  ilenonnced  the  hesiiatinjj  ineasuru 
of  Coercion  which  have  jjeen  pra'^tised  in  Ireland  during  rritical 
cmei^neies.  It  is  not  unnntural,  therefore,  that  we  should  virw 
witli  fonaiderabln  surprise,  ainl  no  little  aniusrment,  Ainrrtra, 
their  mcKlet  state,  resorting;  to  nieasun-ii  coni{Kired  with  wliirli 
our  severest  have  l>een  mild  and  partial,  llicre  is  no  doubt  thai 
in  times  of  public  danifirr  all  states  have  felt  tlie  necessity  oi 
sharpening  their  laws  agninst  treasonable  writinj;  aiid  spcakinf^, 
tljoijgU  thry  linve  rarL-Iy  disjirii^i)  su  rntirelv  with  le^^d  checks 
in  the  empluynieiit  of  Das  extreme  remedy,  or  displayed  so  Utile 
juHgment  or  inoueratiun  in  applying  it  But  whether  their 
course  is  abstractedly  defensible  or  not,  it  cannot  fail  to  strike 
obsen-ei'S  in  this  country  as  contrasting  oddly  with  the  principles 
which  have  Ixm  so  loudly  pnnlaimed  by  Americanizing  zcidou 
here.  And  tlie  comparison  lietwcen  past  biMists  and  pn-seni  lacfcs 
does  not  lose  in  inteiiest,  when  we  find  the  liberty-loving  eulogists 
of  the  post  coolly  persisting  in  their  eology  now  tbat  tbc  Vei^ 
pretence  of  liberty  has  been  dirown  aside. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  decision  with  which  English  opinion 
has  prunouuced  itsi'If  upon  the  failure  of  democracy  in  America 
is  due,  in  a  considerable  d^rce,  to  the  extravagant  adulation 

uit' 


I 


011^  SecognUion.  541 

with  which  in  former  years  that  democracy  was  besmeared.  Bat 
^s  is  not  the  whole  of  the  motive  cause,  or  even  the  most 
powerful  ingredient.  It  would  be  grievously  understating  the 
case  to  say  that  the  American  system  has  only  fallen  short  of  the 
extreme  expectations  which  had  been  formed  by  a  knot  of  fanatics 
here :  or  that  it  teaches  us  no  more  important  lesson  than  that  of 
disbelieving  the  extravagances  of  Mr.  Bright  The  civil  war  has 
a  terrible  interest  of  its  own,  both  on  account  of  the  horrors  it 
involves,  and  of  the  misery  it  is  bringing  upon  a  portion  of  our 
own  countrymen.  But  it  is  fraught  with  instruction  as  well  as 
interest  Every  step  that  it  takes  teaches  us  something  with 
respect  to  the  working  of  the  political  system  which  has  been 
tried  in  America  for  the  first  time  on  a  lai^  scale,  and  which 
England  has  been  so  frequently  called  upon  to  imitate.  And  the 
more  the  civil  war  pn^iresses,  the  more  important  its  teaching 
becomes.  At  first  it  may  be  said  to  have  conveyed  lessons  that 
were  comparatively  elementary.  The  essential  weakness  of  a 
Federal  form  of  government  was  a  moral  that  lay  on  the  surface 
of  Secession.  But  as  we  have  nothing  Federal  in  the  form  of  our 
Government,  and  are  never  likely  to  have,  the  moral  had  no 
peculiar  interest  for  us.  The  injurious  effects  of  a  temporary  and 
elective  sovereignty  were  also  a  very  obvious  inference  from  the 
conduct  of  President  Buchanan.  For  the  last  four  momentous 
months  of  his  Presidency  he  was  obviously  dominated  by  no 
other  desire  than  that  of  putting  off  the  evil  day  of  bloodshed  till 
his  successor's  time.  He  was  a  traitor,  if  not  by  his  action,  at 
least  by  his  passive  acquiescence :  and  if  he  acquiesced  in  that 
which  it  would  have  been  wearisome  and  arduous  to  resist,  it 
was  because  he  had  no  motive  for  action.  His  recklessness  to  all 
that  might  happen,  when  once  his  tenure  of  office  should  have 
closed,  was  a  striking  illustmtion  of  the  value  of  an  hereditary 
throne.  Sovereignty  by  birth,  and  sovereignty  by  election,  do 
Dot  appear  to  differ  very  widely  in  the  average  intellectual  merit 
of  the  sovereigns  they  produce.  Kings  and  Presidents  alike  have 
only  in  very  exceptional  cases  any  special  fitness  for  the  posts 
they  occupy.  But  the  enormous  and  paramount  advantage  of 
the  hereditary  principle  is  this — that  the  Sovereign  whose  son  is 
to  succeed  to  the  throne  he  leaves  is  bound  over  by  the  strongest 
of  human  motives  to  be  faithful  to  his  trust.  He  cannot,  like  the 
elective  President,  view  with  indifference  die  turmoil  or  the 
danger  that  may  await  his  successor. 

But  this  truth  was  not  of  much  practical  interest  to  us.  We 
have  never  had  any  taste  for  elective  sovereigns  in  England,  thm 
advantages  of  a  hereditaiy  crown  have  never  been  serionsly  im* 
fnigned.     Mr.  Bright  has  occasionally  let  slip  the  sentiment  that 

a  pieiident 


&42 


T^ic  Confederaie  Struggle 


a  president  is  a  much  clieaper  ofTtcial  Uian  a  monarch  ;  but  ho 
hns  nevPT  ronturcd  la  enlnrt*«  upon  this  unpopular  topic.    In  truth, 
cvim  it'  tlier^  n-crc  any  inclination  among  tu  to  agitate  such  a 
question,    and  if   the  present    wearer    of  the  Cn»wn    were    less 
popular  than  she  is,  no  one  coiilil  lirel  lliat  thc> qnesttou  wasavery 
practiral  one.     Tlie  iKiwrrs  of  the  ("rown,    though    legally  ihoj 
axv.  very  large,  arc  so  muth  hi-ld  in  reserve  under  a  constitutional 
system  tliat  we  are  scarcely  conscious  of  their  existence.     They 
make  so  little  show  that  they  present  no  mark  for  an   agitator's 
aim.     The  truth  is  that  the  Crown   is  not  n  comhatnjit  in  the 
real  ]M)litic-nl  struggle  nf  iiur  age.     In   this  country,  ot  least,  r& 
publtcaiiism  and  monarchy  have  ceased  to  be  pitted  ai^ainst  eacli 
othftr.      It  is  agreed  on  all  hands  that — through  the  Crown — the 
nation  is  to  rule.     Gut  what  class  la  to  preponderate  within  thi? 
nation  ?    How  is  the  nation's  voice  to  be  expressed  ?    The  struggle ' 
for  |>owcr  in  our  day  lies  not  between  Crown  and  people,  or  between 
a  caste  of  nobh^  and  a  bourgetiisie,  but  between  the  classes  who 
have  pro|K;rty  and  the  cOaswrjs  who  have  nunc.     If  property,  and 
the  iutrllcctual  advantages  and   moral  securities  which  property  ^H 
as  a  rule  implies,  are  t*»   be  taken   into  account,  the  piupertiwi  ^H 
classes  will    Ik.-  supreme,  as  they  are  now  in    Englnnd.      If  pTi>" 
perty  is  to  be   of  no  account,  and  absolute  political  equality  U  to 
prevail,   the  mere  multitude    will   rule,  as  it  does   now   in  the 
Federal  States.      For  many  ycuis  past  the  advocates  of  the  raulti-j 
tudc  have  claimed  that  tlie  merits  of  democracy  sliall  Im*  judged  i 
by  its  working  in  the  Northern  States.     And  unless  wc  rcnonnce 
the  guidance  of  experience  altogether,  ami  inouhl   our  polity  In 
suit  a  mere  theory,  it  is  evident  that  this  claim  must  be  aihnittnL 
The  Northern   States  arp  the  oidy  communities  who  liavc  tricttl 
the  rule  of  tlie  multitude  on  anv  considerable  scale,  and  thcR-j 
fore  we  must  abide  by  the  results  of  their  experiment,  if  we  mean ' 
to  defer  to  any  experiment  at  all. 

Let  us,  then,  eliminate  from  the  problem   all  dlsturKing  ami 
collateral  causes.     The   mere  event  of  Secession  wtis,   in   n  con- 
siderable degree,  due  to  the  defects  of  the  Federal  system;  andj 
the  Feileml  system  has  no  nw^cssary  connexion  with  IVmucrary.' 
Let  us,  then,  pass  by  the  queiition  of  Secession,  and  conBno  our 
attention  to  more  recentevenls.    Since  the  Secession,  at  all  events, 
the  Federal  principle  lias  not  interfered,      Tlie  govi>nnneiiti»f  the 
United  States  for  fifdt^n  montlis  h;is  bn-n  in  pmctitt- as  lentralixed 
as  that  iif  Fianire.     Those  fifteen  months  v.  ill  form  a  fair  test  of  the 
working  of  govcmment  by  the  multitude.     We  have  seen  bow 
that  form  of  govcmraent  works  when  the  politcol  iky  is  perfcf.-tlyj 
unclouded.     With  l^oundless   lands,  high  wages  uf  labour,  lowl 
liixation,  cheap  food,  and  no  foreign  enemy  to  fear,  the  system  uf 

government 


and  Recoffnition.  543 

government  in  the  United  States  has  succeeded  passably  well.    It 
has  not  been  favourable  to  moral  progress ;  for  their  (Commercial 
morality    has   been    the  lowest  in  the  world.     They  have  not 
upheld  the  national  credit  with  very  great  good  fortune ;  for  the 
States'  governments  have  repudiated  in  several  instances ;  and  the 
late  Secretary  for  War,  Mr.  Staoton,  had  already  bc^n  to  speak  of 
thefutureTepudiationof  its  whole  debt  by  the  Federal  government 
as  a  very  possible  hypothesis.     It  has  not  been  succeuful  in  exe- 
cuting justice  between  man  and  man ;  for  the  elective  Judges, 
holding  their  offices  for  brief  periods,  have  been  in  most  places 
the  creatures  of  the  people ;  and  the  mob  has  always  set  the  law 
at  defiance,    in   eastern   or  western    States   alike,  whenever    it 
thought   fit     With    these   reservations,  the  democratic  govern- 
ment has  answered  fairly  enough  nnder  the  conditions  of  absolute 
sunshine  which  it  has  enjoyed.     But  under  such  conditions  most 
governments  would  succeed.      The  most  vicious  despot  could 
hardly  prevent  the  mass  of  his  people  from   being  contented 
nnder   such    circumstances  ;    and   until    discontent    arises,    the 
government  cannot  well  help  succeeding.     War,  the  curse  of 
nations,  and  the  crucial   test  of  governments,  would  not  come 
near  their  borden.     They  did  their  best  to  invite  him,  by  in- 
vading their    neighbours  and  insulting  their  rivals;  but  for  a 
time  Uiey  invited  him  in  vain.    That  boundless  natural  resoarces, 
and  peace  which   they  could   not   contrive   to  terminate,   should 
have  given  them  material  prosperity',  may  reflect  credit  oo  die 
energy  of  the  people,  but   is  of  little  use  in  proving  the  excel- 
lence of  their  form  of  government.     It  is  in  stormier  weather 
that  forms  of  government  are  tested.     They  are,  in  their  nature, 
precautions  against  disturbance ;  and  it  is  only  by  their  behaviour 
when  disturbance  comes  that  their  true  merits  can  be  ascertained. 
The  anchcv  that  only  holds  ground   in  perfectly  smooth  water 
might  almost  as  well   be   left  at  home.     Englishmen,  therefoie, 
have  watched  this  year  of  civil  war  with  no  little  interest,  to 
see  how  the  goremment  of  the  multitude  would  bear  the  strain. 
While  the  experiment  was  yet  in  progress,  and  its  israe  donbdhl, 
political  disputants  on  both  sides  have  appealed  to  it  in  confir- 
mation of  their  own  views.     Opinion  may  have  been  divided  90 
long  as  the   upshot  was   in  suspense ;  but  now  diat  the  great 
experiment  is  verging  to  its  close,  it  is  only  a  few  choice  spirits, 
whose   iron-«ided   fanaticism   no  facts  tan  penetrate,    that  will 
maintain   that  the  democracy  has  worked  well.      Most   mm   are 
now  agreed  that  it  has  failed ;  and  that,  not  in  any  subordinate 
detail,   but  in  the  two  great   opposite   fbnctions   which   are  the 
final  cause,  the  raiMOn  (T^tre^  of  all  political  institntioDS.      It  has 
iaiied  to  reprew  rebellion  ;  it  has  laUed  to  uj^kM  Ubertv :  it  has 
\oL  112.— Ab.  SS4.  2  s  '     &iled 


544 


The  Confederate  Struggle 


foiled  OS  a  m&chino  of  governmcot ;  nnfl  it  bas  failed  ai  • 
rnutee  for  freedom. 

Tlieso  failures  scarcply  need  a  fonnal  ptYH>f,     They  He  on  U» 
surface  of  a  history  too  fresli  to  lie  forpotton.  and  too  plain  Xo  \m 
misroad.     The  condition  in  which  they  find  themsflvrs  is  t})(t< 
IlPfit  proof  that  the  nilprs  of  thi'  United  States  havr  utterly  failed 
as  administrators.      Fifteen  months  haek  ihev  Ktnrted    npnn  t)ip 
war  with   every  condition    in  their  favour.     That  they   tvuuld 
succeed  in  «i  subjugating  tltc  Snuthomers  na  in  iwvtore  them  Ui 
the  Republic  as  lorat   fcllow-citixcns,  vas  never  possible  :  bo 
that   they  would  have  all   the  success  whirh   military  victorie* 
could   give,  ought   t4i  have    been  a  eertainlv.      Tlieir  pfipnlntinn 
exceeded  that  ol'  their  opponents    in  tht*  proportion  of  niorr  ihnn- 
two  to  one.     Their  ]iTepon<lenincn  in  wr.ilfh  was  still  more  un 
whelming'.     I'hey  had  the  absoUite  command  of  the  sea,  and 
the  naW^ble  rivers  which  g-ive  such  enormous  facilities  for 
invasion  of  the   Qmfederate  territory.     The  workshofM    of  a 
Kurope  vivvc  open  l<i  them;  while  to  their  enemira  KunuM-  w 
ahmisl  alwoliitelv  rut  tiff.      The  Confederates  have  hail  \u  snppljff 
themselves   at   n  few  months'    notice,    from    their    own    intern: 
resources,  with  arms,  ammunition,  clothing,  and  fimd,  for  all  of 
which,  op  to  the  time  of  the  Secession,  they  had  been  depcnUcn 
on  importations.  Nothing*  but  the  most  conspicuous incompctrn 
could  have  prevented    the  Federals  from  winning  in  a  mce  wii 
a  cnmpetitoT  so    fr^rfullv  weiglitetl  ;  and   it   ha.i  l>een    inrotn 
tenre  such  as  the  world  has  rnrely  snen  ciiuallr*!  or  appmnrbcd. 
If  it  li;id    lM?en  iJie    incoirijM-tenec   of  one  single  oOicial,   the' 
might  have  been  no  cati<e   for  surprise,     ^iich  accidents  wilt 
Itappen  in  the  l>est-construrte<l  governments.    But  it  has  liren  al 
embnteing,  all-pervwHng.      It  has  infected  all  depftrtiiients  of  tbi 
Onvennnent;   it  lias  lieen  as  markeil    in  the  legislntiire  a%  in  tli 
executive,  in  the  civilian  as  in  the  commander,  in  the  sulMndinn 
as  in  the  chief.       With  tlie  exception  of    the  naval   o|>cialioi 
i>r  Commodore  Farragat  before  New  Orleans,  there  has   bcri 
mi  o[N<mtion    of    the  Federal     Government    that    has    not 
^wu"alv<Ecd  by  iucumjH'tence  at  every  step.     It  has  doggwl  wi 
equal  pertinacity  the  o|>eratIons  in   the  field   to  whit-h  Amerii- 
is  comparatively  strange,  and   the  n[>erations  of  logislaliim 
finance  with  which   her  statesmen  are  as  conversant  as  our  i>w 
It   has  produn'd  a  military  campaign  opened  M-ith  unpamllel 
vaunlings,  and  issuing  in  unparalleled  disaster;  a  policy  whic 
has  neither  given  heart  ami   aninur  ti>  the  Nnrtli,  nor  t^nrH-iUa 
the  South;  a  finance,  caricaturing   in   its  alisurdcst  linramen 
the  worst    blunders  of  our  own,  and   better    fitted  than    nnv  I 
was  ever  devised  to  harden  the  industry  of  tlic  future,  wliilr  r 

Mid* 


and  ReeognUitm.  545 

atiflet  commeree  for  die  present ;  and  a  reckleunew  in  tam- 
pering with  the  currency,  which  we  most  recur  to  mediaeval  his- 
tory to  parallel.  The  servants  of  the  United  States  Gorenimr'nt 
have  failed  as  commanders — witness  M^Clellan,  and  McDowell, 
and  Pope  :  they  have  failed  as  administrators — witness  Cameron 
and  Stanton :  they  have  failed  as  financiers,  as  in  the  case  of 
Chase  :  and  they  hare  failed  as  independent  goremors,  as  in  the 
instances  of  Batter  and  Wool.  There  is  no  species  of  adroimis- 
tratim,  no  section  of  a  Government's  operations,  in  which  those 
who  have  been  intrusted  by  the  multitude  at  a  time  of  trial  to 
manage  its  affiiirs  have  not  disgracefully  and  ignominiooslr 
failed. 

These  striking  ei'ils,  arising  so  suddenly,  and  attaining  with 
so  much  speed  to  so  terrible  an  intensity,  naturally  lead  ns  to 
Inquire  after  the  cause.  Tbey  are  not  such  as  we  shoold  hare 
naturally  predicted  for  a  people  like  that  of  the  Northern  States. 
Failure  is  that  to  which  they  are  least  accustomed.  Whatero- 
may  be  their  ikults,  they  have  a  right  at  least  to  the  credit  of  gene- 
rally succeeding  in  what  they  undertake.  They  are  energetic, 
-fearless,  ingenious,  resourceful,  beyond  any  other  nation  of  the 
earth.  By  what  malignant  fate  has  it  come  to  pass  that  the  people 
who  individually  are  proverbial  for  their  readiness  in  surmounting 
obstacles  that  seem  to  others  hopeless,  should  as  a  nation  have  made 
the  most  ignominious  failure  that  the  world  has  ever  seen,  in  an  en- 
terprise in  which  all  the  chances  were  on  their  side?  There  can 
be  but  one  explanation — it  is  that  which  is  in  everibodv  s  mouth. 
They  were  infamously  led.  It  has  been  well  said  that  a  regiment 
of  asses  with  a  lion  at  their  head,  will  do  more  than  a  regiment 
of  lions  with  an  ass  at  their  head.  Good  leaden  are  the  one 
thing  needful,  which  no  other  excellences,  however  snperemioent, 
can  replace.  In  this  case  there  was  everythii^  else  tbat  the 
most  sanguine  patriot  could  hare  desired — gallant  soldiers,  mag- 
nifiirent  equipment,  an  overwhelming  SDpenoritr  of  numbers, 
and  an  easy  communication  with  their  sources  of  supply.  But 
there  was  die  one  fatal  defect  which  has  made  them,  with  all 
these  advantages,  the  inferiors  of  the  ill-armed,  ill-fed,  ill-clothed, 
out-numbered  Confederates.  The  defect  was  that  they  had  doc, 
and  have  iHjt  now,  one  man  who  can  be  called  a  general  in  the 
6e1d,  nor  one  man  who  can  be  called  a  statesman  in  the  Cabinet. 

The  Americans  have  never  denied  ttiat  this  poverty  of  great- 
ness was  the  result  of  their  democratic  institutions.  They  have 
rather  gloried  in  it,  until  they  began  to  smart  under  its  efleds. 
Ther  have  been  apt  to  boast  of  it  as  a  proof  of  the  greatness  of 
the  people,  tliat  they  needed  little  governing,  and  could  afi<vd  to 
tell  off*  their  smallest  and  weakest  U*T  such  a  service.  re«ervinc: 

2  K  2  the 


54fi 


The  Confederate  Stnifff/h 


the  flower  of  their  intcllecnial  stronglli  for  morr  prodactive  la1>our,| 
Mr.  Tn>ll(>pc"«  observations  in  rcleppncf  to  tlif  .State  Lrorislntun: 
intltratp  the  feeling  tlint  lins  prcvniled  in  Amcriai  in  refrrenct}-! 

to  all  politiciil  oflicos  : — 

*  Nothing  hiw  stnick  nic  bo  much  in' Amorlcft  u  tho  fiict  thlit  tboHj 

Stata  LogifilAturaa  arc  piiiiy  powors. It  is  boasted  that  Uuir| 

imtioniftciijice  ia  a  aign  uf  Uia   well-buiog  of  tlio  people — that 
iuaallncBs  of  the  power  ncoeaHU^  for  conying  oo  tho  machiue  abowi 
Low  beontifiilly  the  machine  ie  organfiedf  and  how  trcll  it  works.  "  " 
ia  lioitor  to  havo  littlo  govoniuni  Uiau  gruat  govurmira,"  aii  Ainrriisul 
once  imid  to  me.     "  It  in  our  glorj-  that  wo  linow  how  to  live  withort] 
having  great  meu  to  rulo  ovor  uo."    That  glory,  if  it  over  wore  a  glory,] 
has  eonit)  to  aii   cud.     /(  aetnn«  in  me  Ihtii  all  these  trtnJdai  tmvt'  nn 
uprm  fh4J  Sfatea  IteeaiiBr  thcif   haiv  not  put   hiijh    mrn    in    kitfh   plaottm} 
The  less  of  laws  and  the  loss  of  control  tho  hotter,  providing  a  pooplij 
nm  go  right  with  fotv  1eiu'8  irnil  with  little  couLrul.    One  luay  say  tiiat  n< 
lawaand  ih>  contml  woitttl  hn  hcMt  of  all,  providnl  that  none  were  ito«<Ux 
But  this  ie  not  exactly  the  position  of  the  Ainericuu  peoplo.     The 
profettsions  of  law-mnkiiig  and  of  govemmbitt  have  httcomu  niifiudui 
alile,  low  ill  uBtiuiation,  aud  of  tui  roputo  in  tho  BtatcM.  Tho  mnnicij 
powers  of  the  cities  hare  not  Culleii  into  the  hands  of  the  leading  mc 
The  word  politician  Iui8  conio  t^j  hoar  tho  ninaning  of  politieal  ndntO'^ 
turor,  and  almost  of  pulitical  bhickleg.     If  A  mllit  B  a  politician, 
iitt^nda  to  vilify  B  by  so  calling  him.'  * 

This  is  tlie  real  root  of  the  disease.  It  alTerts  politicians 
nil  degrees,  whether  iliey  aim  at  municipal,  State,  or  h'edeT 
oHiccs ;  and  it  shows  itself  with  especial  virulence  in  the  elcctioi 
for  the  IVesidency  itself.  Mr.  TroUopc  throws  out  a  su);gesli<io' 
that  perlinps  ii  higher  rati;  of  pay  might  draw  better  men.  We 
doubt  whether  a  hi^hfr  rate  of  pay  would  l>e  l^ias  attractive  inJ 
the  'political  blacklegs,'  or  would  compensate  to  resiwcTabh 
persons  for  the  disgrace  of  being  mixed  up  with  tlicm.  Thl 
evil  lies  nuirh  (hM;{>er — ns  deep  as  the  democracy  itself.  1| 
('(Mild  nut  hare  been  avoided  without  an  entire  rhange  of  insti* 
lutions. 

i'he  North  have  committe<l  many  minor  mrors  and  follies  ti 
th<'  coors*'  nf  the  repeate<l  liisasters  through  which  thev  have  passed. 
Many  a  sin  which,  in  the  days  of  tlieir  prosiK'rity,  thev  altu(» 
|)ointe«l  to  with  pridr  as  to  a  striking  national  pctiiliaritv,  ban 
iloggnd  them  ami  loiiiid  them  out  in  this  fearful  time  of  trial 
'J'hc  lavish  expense  at  wliii  h  tlie  war  has  b«>cij  ronftucted,  ll 
c«m80<]ueut:e  of  the  rascality  of  contractors,  may  warn  them  fn 
the  future  not  to  think  »o  lightly  of  the  'smaitnesit*  nt  wliicl 
they  have  been  wont  to  laugh.     The  ludicnms  tcrminatioa  of  I 


Trollopc,  J.  M6, 


1 


ayid  lUcognilion.  547 

year  of  pertinacious  brag^  may  possibly  sng^est  to  them  the 
expediency  of  transferring  for  the  future  some  of  their  energy 
from  their  adjectives  to  their  deeds.  Bat  the  cardinal  cause  oi 
their  calamities  lies  in  the  great  political  fallacy  of  their  institu- 
tifHis.  They  are  reaping  a  harvest  that  was  sown  as  bx  back 
as  the  time  of  JdTason.  They  are  without  any  leaden  wMthy 
of  the  name,  becaose,  in  deference  to  a  flreamer^s  theory,  their 
natural  leaders  have  been  deposed. 

Political  equality  is  not  merely  a  foUy — it  is  a  chimera.  It  is 
idle  to  discuss  whether  it  ought  to  exist ;  for,  as  a  matter  <^  iact, 
it  never  does.  Whatever  may  be  the  written  text  of  a  Coostitn- 
tioD,  the  multitude  always  will  have  leaders  among  them,  and 
those  leaden  not  selected  by  themselves.  They  may  set  up  the 
pretence  of  political  equality,  if  thev  will,  uid  delude  them- 
selres  with  a  belief  of  its  existence.  But  the  <Mily  consequmcp 
will  be,  that  they  will  have  bad  leaden  instead  of  good.  jEvcry 
community  has  natural  leaders,  to  whom,  if  th'V  are  Dot  misled 
by  the  insane  passion  for  equality,  they  will  instinctively  defer. 
Always  wealdi,  in  some  fK>m[itries  biTdi,  in  all  intellectnal  powcr 
and  culture,  mark  out  the  men  to  whom,  i.i  a  healthy  stair  c^ 
feeling,  a  communis.'  looks  to  undertake  its  government.  They 
have  the  leisure  for  the  task,  and  can  give  to  it  the  close  attro- 
tion  and  the  preparatory  study  which  it  needs.  Fortune  enables 
them  to  do  it  for  the  most  part  giatuitouslv,  so  that  the  struggles 
of  ambition  are  not  defiled  by  the  taint  of  sordid  greed.  Tbej 
occupy  a  position  of  sufficient  prominence  among  their  neiglt- 
bours  to  feel  that  their  course  is  closely  watched,  and  they 
belong  to  a  class  among  whom  a  bilure  in  bononr  is  mercilessly 
dealt  with.  They  have  been  iHoaght  up  apart  from  tempCatioos 
to  the  meaner  kinds  of  crime,  and  therefore  it  is  no  praise  to 
them  if^  in  such  matters,  their  moral  code  stands  high.  But 
even  if  they  be  at  bottom  no  better  than  otbeis  wbo  have  passed 
through  greater  vicissitudes  of  fm-tmie,  tbey  ha^T  at  least  this 
inestimable  advantage — that,  when  higher  rooti^'^es  fail,  thor 
virtue  has  all  the  support  which  human  respect  can  give.  They 
are  the  aristocracy  of  a  coontry  in  the  original  and  best  sense  of 
the  word.  Whether  a  few  of  them  are  drcoimted  by  boncKair 
titles  or  enjoy  faereditarr  privileges,  is  a  matter  of  secoodair 
moment.  The  important  point  is,  that  the  ruins  of  dte  conntiy 
should  be  taken  from  among  them,  and  that  with  them  should 
be  the  political  preponderancr  to  which  they  have  every  right 
that  superior  fitness  can  confer.  Unlimited  power  would  be  as 
ill-bestowed  upon  them  as  upcm  any  other  set  of  men.  Thev 
must  be  checked  by  constitutional  forms  ami  watched  bv  .-in 
active  public  opinion,  lest  their  riglitfiil  pre-eminence  should 

degenerate 


548 


The  C<fnjcdcralv  Sfruggh 


tk'K6n<!ralc  into  tlie  domination  of  n  clan.  But  woc  to  the  com- 
munity that  deposes  them  alto^thcr!  It  ig  not  that  tlicre  will 
be  any  difficulty  iti  filling  up  their  places ;  there  will  always  he 
U  ftlnindnnt  supply  of  ramlidatcs  for  power.  There  are  |ilfDl)r 
of  men  whom  its  iK-cuniary  I'alue  will  be  stiflieieiit  to  attract. 
They  will  not  seek  it  as  a  pnhlie  ilaty,  tun  even  for  the  nobler 
sell". interest  of  anibition,^tliry  will  sttik  it  for  the  paj  and  for 
the  jourm-y-nioiiey,  for  the  jjood  things  that  come  from  *  lobby- 
ing/ and  for  that  which  sticks  to  the  hands  of  those  who  handle 
Oontmcts,  The  prespniv?  of  sueb  motives  will  always  be  strong 
cnoujfh  to  bring  together  as  miinv  eimdidnies  for  election  to 
legislativo  or  uxcirHtiv*^  ofiice  as  any  couslitutiun  may  preicrlbe. 
But  they  will  not  tie  of  the  material  of  which  sutcsmen  and 
le^lators  are  made.  Thev  will  be  good  electioneercrs,  clercr 
wire-pullers,  smart  men  to  coin  the  largest  gain  out  of  any 
popular  sentiment  of  the  day.  But  nf  the  higher  forms  of  mental 
Cnlture,  and  still  more  of  the  higher  instincts  of  patriotism  and 
honour,  tliey  will  be  ab»>1utely  devoid.  It  is  into  the  hands  of 
the  ]ioliticat  btaclilegx  whom  Mr.  Trollopc  forcibly  describM, 
that  ofiice,  with  its  rich  harvest  of  patronage  and  contracts,  will 
bitl.  And  yet  tliey  will  not  really  be  the  jK'ople's  s^Kintsueoos 
choice.  They  will  Ix;  as  much  imjmiicd  upon  them  bv  intrijftip 
as  their  natural  leaders  would  be  by  wealth  »r  social  position. 
The  irlet-tors  of  im  American  cuiislituenry  are  far  more  in  the 
hands  of  their  wire-pullers  than  (he  electors  of  &tt  Kngliiih 
county  arc  in  the  hands  of  its  landowners,  and  have  much  lest 
chance  of  resisting  the  candidate  that  is  selected  for  them.  Wo 
will  quote  Mr.  Trollojjc's  evidence  upon  this  point,  because  ho 
is  the  most  recent  nuth{>rity  upon  the  question  ;  but  he  onl 
says  what  lias  Itei-n  often  said  liefiire  :  — 

'Itoro,  again,  I  must  dcclnro  my  opiniuu  that  LhiK  deuioemitc  pioe-i 
ticu  [that  (jf  Huudiug  instmetion»  to  seniitors]  haHcn^pt  into  theSciulS] 
^rithotit  any  cxproeeod  wish  of  the  jMSoplc.     In  ull  such  mattunt  tWj 
pooi)k)  of  this  DAtioD  have  been  etrangoly  UDdcmotigtrAtivo.     It 
been  done  as  part  of  a  avHtcm  which  lia«  been  nw-d  for  titinnft-rrina 
the  political  power  of  the  nattou  to  a  body  of  trading  politician!*,  wbo^ 
tuTO  bocomo  known  and  felt  aa  a  masft,  and  not  Imown  and  felt  mt 
indiTiduolB.     I  find  it  diffieult  to  dcvcribo  the  pruscnt  politiisU  pan- 
tiou  of  the  StatM  in  that  nwpoct.     The  millioitB  of  the  iieopk'  aiv 
eagur  for  the  uoiuititutlou,  are   prood  of  their  power  u  a  uatiim,  aad 
oro  ambitious  of  natiouul  grcutiicSti.     But  tbuy  aru  ncjt,  1  Ihiuk,  csft- 
cially  desirous  of  retaining  poUtieal  influcnco  in  their  own  handif.     At 
moay  of  Me  fh-elitnts  it  it  Jij^-ii?/  to  iiuluee  them  lo  cffte.     Thoy  hav I 
among  thorn  a  half  knowledge  that  puliticti  in  a  trwlu  in  the  hauds 
the  lawyers,  and  that  they  are  thu  capital  ly  which  thueo  |Mjliti( 
tL-adoffluon  cony  on  their  tnuiinobi).     These  politicians  aiu  all  laMyrrA. 

i'oiiticiii 


4 


and  Recognition,  ^■id 

....  Political  powoT  has  como  into  their  liands ;  and  it  ib  for  their 
purposes,  and  by  their  influence,  that  the  spread  of  democracy  has 
been  encuorsgcd.' 

If  it  be  an  object  that  the  multitude  should  directly  govern, 
democracy  does  not  seem  to  have  approached  nearer  to  that 
object  than  any  other  form  of  government  The  people  still 
follow  their  leaders  in  America  as  elsewhere.  The  only  dif- 
ference is  that  the  lead  has  passed  from  the  hands  of  the-  inde- 
pendent and  highly-cultivated  cliisses  into  the  hands  of  wire- 
pullers and  caucus-mongers.  The  evils  of  such  a  state  ,of  things 
may  be  tolerable  during  a  period  of  profound  tranquillity. 
While  a  nation's  political  sky  is  bright,  the  vanity  of  its  pettier 
minds  may  be  soothed  by  the  idea  that  the  people  can  do 
without  great  men.  But,  whatever  the  advantages  of  the  nation 
may  be,  the  fair  weather  cannot  last  for  ever.  The  day  of  trial 
will  come,  when  institutions  are  tried  in  the  iire  of  civic  dissen- 
sion ;  and  then  such  a  collapse  as  that  upon  which  the  eyes  of 
all  Christendom  are  riveted  at  the  present  moment  will  throw 
abundant  light  upon  the  wisdom  of  governing  by  little  men. 

But  it  may  be  said,  as  it  has  been  often  said,  that  the  upper 
classes  in  the  Federal  States  are  excluded  from  power,  not  by 
the  constitution,  but  by  their  own  act  They  have  voluntarily 
withdrawn  from  politics,  and  refuse  to  mingle  in  them.  It  is 
tbeir  own  doing  that  the  *  political  blacklegs '  have  been  left 
without  competitors.  The  people  have  not  deposed  their  natural 
leaders,  but  the  leaders  have  abdicated  their  trust. 

The  fact  is  unquestionably  so ;  but  it  is  not  the  less  a  direct 
result  of  Democratic  institutions.  Whether  the  better  classes 
of  North  America  are  or  are  not  to  blame  for  their  withdrawal 
from  the  political  arena,  is  not  very  material  to  the  question.  It 
is  possible  that  if  they  had  been  men  of  superhuman  virtue,  they 
would  have  braved  every  discouragement,  accepted  every  degra- 
dation, and  served  their  country  in  her  own  despite.  But  though 
individuals  may  be  actuated  by  superhuman  virtue,  classes  never 
are ;  they  will  always  act  according  to  the  average  morality  of 
their  time.  And  the  reproach  of  Democratic  institutions  is,  that 
there  is  that  in  them  which,  according  to  the  average  working  of 
human  motives,  will  always  drive  the  refined  and  educated  classes 
to  abandon  politics,  and  to  seek  fame  or  occupation  upon  other 
fields.  The  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  They  will  not  stoop  to 
the  acts  by  which  alone  it  is  possible  to  rise.  Every  one  who  is 
familiar  with  election  work  in  England,  knows  how  much  humi- 
liation a  popular  candidature  involves.  It  is  only  in  such  places 
as  our  metropolitan  constituencies  that  the  evil  assumes  its  most 
revolting  type ;  and   we  know  how  rai*ely  it  is  that  a  man  of 

position 


550 


'Hie  Coiife^aie  Struggk 


pnsiluiu  or  repute  cnn  be  induced  tn  submit  himself  to  tlie  ordt*:d 
of  a  metropolitnii  election.  In  America  the  dcfpradation  nf  a 
metropolitan  election  mitliiplics  itself  tenfold.  The  dcpenUcuice 
which  i»  exacted  is  more  absolute;  the  pledges  rcquiretl  arc 
lai^r,  and  must  be  swallowed  more  compjetelv  ;  the  represcn- 
tativ(>  is  more  of  a  <!elcgal<',  and  less  of  a  fit'e  n}jent.  Murrovor, 
the  inIIous  necessit}'  Is  still  more  tmjH'mlivi-  upim  the  i  andidale 
of  tiialiin^  himself  jilcasaiit  to  jmtsuub  whom  in  his  heart  he 
utterly  despises ;  and  tlic  necessity  lasts  tonsrr,  and  recnn 
oftener.  Sometimes  able  men  may  bo  found  who  are  not  fasti- 
dious, and  Oipy  will  not  feel  the  lianUbip  nf  pnifexiiing^  what  they 
■  do  uot  Ix-'liove,  or  pxliibitinfr  an  cnfnrrntl  ^enialitv  tiiwanhi  mm 
from  whom  tliej*  wonhl  natnmtiv  recoil.  Mut  the  bi-xl  men  iif  a 
coinuiuiiitv  nil!  not  do  tUiii.  A  man  who  has  to  swallow  a  striug 
of  pledges  dictated  to  him  by  an  unreasoning]:  a^ad  passionate  heitl 
of  ignorant  men  must  have  first  seared  out  from  his  mind,  by 
the  strongs  rausttc  of  self-interest,  all  feelings  of  se!f-Tes|i**et.  Tbo 
man  who  fones  hinisi'lf  to  a  faniiliarltv,  wliirh  umler  any  other 
uir<;umstanrfs  he  would  disdain,  with  iht;  ctKirsest,  und  often  the 
vilest,  of  maniiind,  in  order  to  jirocure  his  election,  cannot  look 
back  to  tlie  operation  with  complacency,  or  feel  that  he  hu 
raised  himsi^tf  in  his  own  est4;(>m.  Under  a  svsti-m  where  tliejc 
initiatory  sacrifices  are  required,  only  those  will  take  part  ia 
jHilitirR  who  are  too  tbickskinnnl  to  wince  at  thp  humiliations 
tliroii^h  which  tliey  most  jiass,  or  whose  wauls  arc  sufTicirntly 
pressing;  tu  have  nunihiil  thi-!r  usual  s(M)sibilities.  In  Kni^land, 
now  that  tlie  fjenemtiiui  winch  was  trainee!  before  the  Reform 
liill  is  worn  out,  it  has  liecome  increasingly  difitcult  to  supply 
the  \visi  class  of  candidates  for  the  nunc  im|>nrtant  seats ;  and 
yet  anion^  us  It  is  only  a  niitignti-d  type  of  the  evil  tliat  prevails. 
In  America  it  early  luM-anir  inijmssible.  It  has  iM^en  atlesteil  by 
nmnberless  travellers — it  has  been  sufficiently  proved  by  the 
ntter  helplessues:)  of  the  men  who  have  Ix-en  tossing  hither  and 
thither  upon  the  waves  of  the  present  storm — Uint  the  U*sL,  ihe 
calmest,  thi!  atrutest,  tlin  noblest  spirits  of  iHc  conimunity  hare 
preferred  to  tuni  away  from  jxililics  altogether,  rather  than  bead 
to  the  yoke  of  degradation  which  a  popular  candidature  in  a 
Dcniocmtic  State  implies. 

Of  course  this  deterioration  of  political  life  reacts  upon  and 
intensiHes  itself.  Its  humiliatlitg  conditions  expel  the  Irst 
men,  and  tlieir  place  is  filU-d  np  by  adventurers;  and  then,  over 
and  at)ove  the  previous  repulsive ness  of  a  political  career,  is 
added  the  nrci^ssity  of  working  wiUi  the  rascals  who  are  uiaking 
the  conunonweidth  a  pn^v-  Tiius  the  evil  becomes  worse  and 
woTK,*  accelerating  its  own  progress  at  each  downward  stage. 

Even 


I 
I 


t 


anti  Heroffnitiort. 


551 


Kven  in  Amrrica  the  dojrcncracy  has  been  gratlual.  At  llic 
tiiiif!  of  thr  Kpvnliitiun,  the  prrtfeasion  o(  mVtiics  iiiviilvecl  risks 
ni)il  sacriricps  which  mnilp  it  ihn  mthli-st  nf  nil  pursuits.  I'hc 
men  of  the  Kcvolutitin  were  a  Kplcnilid  mcc.  who  had  risen  tn 
their  emiricoce  hy  darinfr  and  nhiittv  alone.  I'olitical  life,  illus- 
tmtpcl  by  thnir  career,  drew  to  it  the  best  blood  of  tlir  nation. 
Scirnrp,  litprnture,  commerce,  did  not,  perhnps,  flimrish  as  they 
hftVP  done  of  rprent  venrs,  but  the  Republic  was  I>rUri-  goverm-d 
iujd  belter  ser^iHl.  Ihit  the  jKiisim  intriHlui-uI  by  Jefferson  was 
alreaflv  al  work,  and  was  not  sh»w  to  manifest  its  effects.  The 
great  men  of  the  Kepublic  b<ftTira«  fewer  and  fewer,  and,  with 
Webster,  thcv  have  absolutely  disapiieared.  Tlic  standanl  of 
ndiniralion  is  reverswf  now;  politics  has  fallen  frtim  the  bi^iheW 
ti>  the  lowest  f^railc  of  honoumble  occupations,  in*  ratlier  it  Itas 
fallen  out  of  the  cati'^firv  altofjether.  Matters  have  come  lo  Unit 
jKiss  that,  as  Mr.  TroHope  puts  it,  *  If  A  calls  B  a  politician,  A 
intends  to  vilify  B  by  so  calliiiff  liim.' 

Rut  it  is  not  only  by  drivinir  fn>m  the  field  of  politics  its 
natural  leaders  tluit  the  Americ-nn  Demncracv  has  brought  its 
nreseot  disasti'rs  ujion  itself.  It  is  far  more  directly  ros|»onsible. 
The  iucompetfncc  of  thu  Presitlent  is  the  most  eunspieuous  cnuso 
of  the  present  calamities  ;  and  the  incomi>otence  of  the  President 
is  the  direct  result  of  tlie  mtKle  in  Mhith  he  is  chosen.  The 
framers  of  the  Republic  ]ilaced  an  unlimited  c<mfidencc>  in  their 
favourite  nostrum  of  jjopular  election.  In  ICnpland  we  tmst,  for 
the  choice  of  our  chief  magistrate,  to  a  |)rtii<-i|de  cunfessctlly 
fortuitous,  and  therefore  uncertain  in  its  results.  But^tlienwc 
provide  guides  to  inform  his  mind,  and  constitutional  checks  to 
arrest  his  errors ;  so  that  his  action  is.  in  prarticc,  rc<luced  to 
those  matters  upiui  wliich  the  public  opinion  of  his  subjects  is 
cither  ajrrecd  with  him,  or  is  not  stronglv  op]>oscd  to  him.  But 
in  America,  the  ehosen  of  the  people  draws  his  title  from  t(Ki 
lofty  an  orif^in  to  be  hamperctl  by  any  such  suspicious  precau- 
tions. In  England  the  Kinp:  reifiTis,  but  does  nm  froveru.  In 
America  the  President  does  not  pretend  to  reipn,  but  there  is  no 
doubt  ahfiut  his  govoniin^-.  His  ministers  ore  so,  only  in  the 
etvmnlogical  sense  nf  the  term.  Every  act  of  his  government  is 
acluallv,  as  well  a^  cotistitulionnlly.  liis  own.  He  dmws  out  the 
cam|iaig'n,  he  appoints  the  ^nerals,  he  Mettles  the  foreifm  policy, 
be  decides  whedier  em.inciiMition  is  to  be  proclaimed  or  not. 
Whether  legally  "r  not,  he  has  now  claimed  and  seized  the  addi- 
tional power  of  imprisoning"  every  citi/cn  at  plrasurtT ;  over- 
rilling  the  decisions  of  the  law-courts;  instituting'  a  passport 
svstcm  and  a  consLTiptlou  by  Ids  mi-re  fiat ;  aud  deelartuf^ 
martial  law  wherever  nc  thinks  fit.     And  nit  these  prcnifratives 

h? 


he  puis  in  force  bv  the  summarv  acttoo  of  the  Provost  Marshal. 
No  need  uX  a  Mutinv  Act  stavs  his  arm.  His  ntinislers  an.* 
llabk*  to  uu  iiiterjK-Uatiuns,  and  arc  responsible  tu  no  in»jurity  in 
Congress.  No  dread  of  a  niitiisterial  crisis  am-sts  bis  ni-titta ; 
atut  his  fears  fur  die  fuluri',  if  he  duiuces  to  be  a  iukevvam 
patriot,  are  limited  to  a  vista  of  four  years.  Invested  with  such 
jH>wei's,  and  clogged  by  so  few  cberks,  the  whole  responsibility 
ijf  disaster  most  rest  on  him.  With  a  man  of  Mr.  Lincoln's 
iiicajMcitj  uiij  obstinacy,  iutruetcd  with  the  enormous  pren^a- 
tives  of  an  American  President,  the  ablest  public  sonant  would 
have  been  powerless  to  save  his  cuuutrv.  No  doubt  he  lias  been 
very  iiicflicienlly  ser\'e<i.  But  if  M*Clclhin  had  been  a  Wel- 
lington, he  would  have  done  nettling  under  a  sujicrior  who  hail 
laid  it  down,  hs  tlic  plan  of  bis  cara|KiigD,  to  disperse,  instrad  of 
concentrating  his  forces;  and  who  put  an  empty  braggart  liltr 
Pope  over  his  head,  because  he  hod  '  known  bim  in  the  West.' 
If  Mr.  Chase  had  been  a  Turgut,  lie  couUI  have  dune  oothiog 
with  a  master  who  had  nuulc  up  his  mind  not  to  levy  a  farthing 
of  direct  taxation  till  the  elections  for  Congress  were  over.  It  is 
dillirult  to  blame  these  subordinates,  incapable  as  tbey  arRf  as 
long  OS  tlic  system  under  wluch  they  act  allows  them,  wjtlioat 
reproof,  to  be  the  agents  of  a  policy  they  disapprove  Wise 
counsels  may  be  offered  to  the  I  resident,  but  he  need  not  taku*' 
them  ;  powerful  tilents  may  be  tendered  to  hiui,  but  he  neo<i  not 
use  them.  I'or  the  s)Kice  of  four  years  he  is  mabter  witliuut 
appeal ;  and  if  his  talents  or  his  morality  happen  to  be  Insuf- 
ficient for  bis  duties,  lie  is  at  full  lil>erty  to  do  all  that  in  fuur 
years  ran  be  done  towards  the  ruin  of  bis  country.  And  ibr 
example  of  Buchanan  living  in  Pennsylvania,  absolutely  for- 
j^otten,  shows  that,  even  if  he  have  misuseil  his  powois  for  the 
furtbemacc  of  actual  treason,  he  may  yet  socurcly  coUQt  upon 
retiring  into  safe  obscurity  when  his  term  is  over, 

'We  strange  peculiarity  of  tlie  American  Constitution,  as  it  now 
works,  is  tliat  it  suk(!s  everytbing  upon  n  single  throw.    The  whole 
destiny  of  the  cfnintry  is  hazard«J,  without  possibility  of  recall,  upon 
the  result  of  the  Presidential  election.     Our  rulers  in  Kngluidftne 
chosen  in  many  difiercnt  ways,  and  owe  their  position  to  a  variety, 
of  converging  causes.     Pai  1  iamcutary  distinction,  oHicial  experi- 
ence, social   popularity,  distinguished   birth,  ull  go  for  somelLin^' 
ill  thesrlcctiuri  of  thi>  slHtesiiiiii  by  uliuiii  uur  empire  isgovemrfl. 
liut  ^et  we  do  nut  absolutclv  trust  auy  uf  these  tliingH,  nor  all  of  1 
them  combined.     \Vc  never  so  resign  ourselves  into  the  bands 
even  of  the  most  honoured  ruler  that  wc  cannot  recall  the  Uustj 
in  ease  of  need.      If  lie  dci-ei\'es  our  eOLpcctatiotls,  and  Ids  incoDKl 
jicteucc   is.  pnjvetl  by  some  striking  failure,  the  ousting  rote  iftl 

oJwayl 


OJid  Becoffnition. 


553 


Always  reai1_V)  a>i<)  the  rivnt  is  always  at  Laud  to  take  Lis  place. 
But  tlie  Americans  bind  themselves  oveff  by  indentures  thai 
cannot  be  braken,  to  sen'c  their  master  absolutely  during  tliR 
8pac<.'  that  has  been  fixed.  It  is  a  grievous  error  to  say  that  the 
Americans  ore  ^tverncd  by  mob-law.  We  couUI  almost  find  it 
in  our  hearts  to  wish  they  were.  TTiey  arc  pivonted  by  tliat 
which  is  mnch  woi-se^-tlio  irremovable  ruler  of  a  mob's  choice. 
At  least,  if  the  mob  htid  any  voice  in  the  govcmuient,  they  would 
mit  feci  tlieroselve-S  bound  to  persevere  in  a  ruinous  policy  as  a 
^matter  of  porsoua)  cunsistencv  or  to  fulfil  election  pleages.  The 
imericau  President  is  tlie  lorner-stone  of  the  democracy  which 
for  years  past  we  have  been  so  ol'tcn  called  upon  to  aiimire  and 
to  copy,  and  lie  apjiears  to  combine  in  liimself  all  the  evils 
whirl]  it  is  possible  for  a  ruler  to  unite.  He  has  not  a  kind's 
interest  to  preserve  the  coimtr\'  with  which  liis  own  and  liis 
dynasty's  interests  are  bound  up ;  he  lias  not  a  constitutional 
minister's  constant  responsibility;  and  he  extends  his  tenure  of 
office  over  a  term  of  yenrs  which  is  amplv  Butlicient  to  enable 
Itiin  lo  conduct  his  country  U*  destruction.  If  he  were  chosen  by 
ang-i'is,  he  might  succeed.  If  even  the  results  of  popular  election 
had  been  tliosc  which  the  founders  of  the  Kepublic  fondly 
counted  on,  something  better  might  hax'e  come  of  it.  Wc  need 
not  describe  what  the  Presidential  elections  have  really  been. 
The  jealousy  of  merit  by  which  democracies  have  been  luiuntiMl 
in  all  times  has  worked  with  fatal  effect.  It  lins  liccuum  a 
standin*;  maxim  of  policy  with  the  conventions  by  wht>m  llie 
canilidnte  of  each  party  is  chosen,  that  he  must  1m>  uliscure  enough 
to  have  excited  no  enmity  by  his  previous  public  career;  for, 
•tbongfa  a  disttnguisbe<t  candi<late  might  better  serve  the  country, 
is  the  obscure  candidate  who  is  most  likely  to  nppease  nil 
jealousies  anil  to  sivure  a  party  virtorv.  As  Mr.  Tnillojif  piit-s 
It,  '  Hut  one  requisite  is  essential  for  a  President :  lie  must  lie  » 
man  whom  none  as  yet  have  drli;^ditr(l  to  honour.' 

'lltcsc  several  causes  are  abumlantlv  sufHcicnt  to  explain  the 
bict  that  the  chief  magistrate  Is  incapable,  and  that  he  can  find 
nothing  but  incapacity  to  serve  him.  Everything  has  been  stakc-d 
on  the  aliiiiiv  of  the  Pivsidcnt,  and  o(  the  sulmrdinjiti-Ji  Mluim  he 
srlcf-ts  ;  ami  ever>"  precaution  lias  been  taken  to  place  llie  office  id 
imbecile  liands.  All  tlie  brst  men  have  Iw-i-n  ef!i-ctually  driven 
from  tlie  arena  of  (wUtics ;  and  of  those  who  remain,  the  obscurest 
is  selected  to  wield  a  power  nearly  a*  large,  and  quite  as  uni  im- 
trolled,  as  tJie  power  of  tlie  Empenir  of  the  Frcncli.  No  otlier 
oxjilnuatiim  is  nertled  to  acc*mnt  for  the  '  swaggering  JmlKfilily  ' 
of  the  Washington  staleameii,  or  the  piteous  plight  in  which  tli"ir 
txiuutrv  lie*. 

Th« 


TliR  singular  success  of  the  South  furiiH  a  corioas  contnst 
to  tlic  (lisiutttrrs  which  Lave  attended  llie  ndininistraliuu  uf  the 
North.  Perlinps  it  is  the  more  striking  from  the  absolute  con* 
fidenoe  with  which  its  failure  was  predicted,  iireu  those  who 
wishfxi  it  to  succeed  did  not  believe  its  success  to  be  poiaiblc^ 
destitute  ns  it  was  of  all  the  material  of  war,  hampered  hy  slaves 
whose  iT'ljellinu  it  mii^ht  liave  cause  to  fear,  and  fearfnlly  o>Tr- 
itiatched  in  numbers.  Its  success  is  due  to  precisely  the  saiac 
cnuse  as  that  which  determined  the  Northern  fa.i[ure-s.  Its  ctvil 
and  military  leaders  have  been  men  of  ftrst-mte  ability,  and  their 
talent  Iws  more  than  compensated  for  deficiencies  of  material 
and  of  force.  At  first  siffht  their  su{>eriority  in  ability  to  ihcir 
adversaries  might  seem  inexplicable:  for  both  seclious  uf  the 
former  Uniteil  States  are  alike  Republican,  and  both  are,  in  the, 
main,  based  upon  universal  suflVa^e.  There  is  a  limitation  of 
tlie  sufTrajire  in  the  Carolinas:  but  it  is  not  of  sufficient  import 
ance  to  influence  the  f<:eneral  result  Apparently  this  mi^ht  seem 
to  negative  the  doctrine  that  the  capacity  of  puhlic  men  must 
neci^ssnrllv  l»e  dwarfed  by  n  system  uf  universal  sufTi-ag-c.  If 
demorrntic  institutions  art!  to  bear  tlie  blame  of  Linci>ln  and 
i*o]>e,  t)irv  have  a  right,  on  the  other  band,  to  he  rre<lite(l  with 
the  merits  of  Davis  and  Jackson.  This  is  so  in  appearance,  but 
only  in  ap|)earancc.  The  element  of  slavery  must  be  taken  iaUt 
account  before  tl»c  comparison  will  be  just. 

It  is  usually  assumed  that  a  demnrracy  with  sIbtcs  i*  a  dcmo- 
rrary  still  ;  ami  that,  for  all  pnlitiral  purposi's,  it  will  present  the 
same  charactfTrUtics  as  a  dtMniH-rac'v  in  which  slaverv  does  not 
exist.  li{w>n  this  assumption  the  example  of  Athens  Has  often 
been  quoted  to  prove  that  political  ability  may  abound  in  a 
democratic  atmosphere.  Such  arguments  are  utterly  sophistical. 
The  jirt'sence  of  slavery  nlt^iw  the  nature  of  the  pnvernmrot 
nltonether.  The  sulTm^e,  fiiun  which  a  lar^e  black  jiopntalii^n  is 
exchidifd,  may  be  callcxl  universal  by  those  who  value  a  hi^- 
S4»undii)^  name,  but  it  has  no  sort  of  similarity  to  the  univenal 
sufTra^e  which  exists  where  the  population  is  all  white.  Tie 
evil  tt(  universal  suflVaire  is,  tliat  it  places  tbe  poorest  and  rudest 
seetioii  i)f  the  rommunilv  in  uncontrolled  jtossesslon  uf  political 
power.  But  it  only  does  tliis  because  they  are  iiumerirallv  the 
majority.  Cut  a  huge  slice  off  that  section,  and  declare  that  they 
shall  have  no  votes  because  of  their  colour,  and  the  numerical 
majority  is  at  an  end.  The  remnant  of  it  ceases  to  be  the  most 
numerous  class,  and  therefore  etnses  to  be  supreme.  The  neuron 
in  the  Siuth  arc  alxrut  one-third  of  the  |Htpulatton,  and  their 
disfranchisement,  therefore,  hiis  precisely  th<'  samr  i-flect  upin 
the  political   balance  of  {rawer  that  would  result  Irom  disfnui- 

chisiug 


s 


and  Rerojnition. 


555 


chuiing  ahoat  tix  milliont  of  the  lowest  ami  lenst  tsluratiil 
whiles  in  tbe  North.  Hy  it^lf  this  constitutes  a  i]inl«>rial  dero^i- 
lion  from  the  coinplctcuess  of  universal  suflraire.  j^uc  the  exist- 
cnri'  of  slavprv  has  a  still  more  powerful  operation  in  imxlil'yinji^ 
the  wnrlvint;  of  n  rnnstitutinn  which  is  iinniinaltv  cleinucnitic. 
In  nil  rrstrirtrd  suffrngcs  thrrc  is  a  strong  trnilpnrv  on  the  part 
nf  thoM>  electors  who  aro  at  Om  hftttnm  of  tlio  scalt-  to  sym|)nttiize 
with  their  disf ranch is^etl  I'ellow-citizens,  and  to  vote  in  a  more 
riulical  sense  than  their  stake  in  tltc  established  order  of  things 
would  Iwul  one  to  nntlripatp.  This  inrlinntinn  |>anlv  arises  from 
the^  pri'Ssure  rxerciswl  Upon  tlifin  by  their  frirnd^,  lUMji^hltours, 
and  tu^tnint-rs :  partiv  it  i»  antajronism  tip  thcr  ctajtsrs  nlnive  thrni, 
who  are  their  only  political  rivals.  In  Kngland  wo  feel  the 
operation  of  this  law  vrjy  sensibly.  The  Ten-pounders,  wherever 
they  exist  in  targe  bodies,  are  very  nnarly  as  radical  as  the 
fiv(*- pounders  could  be;  autl  are  onlv  not  dan|^protis  lK>rause  such 
ronBlitnemries  arc  not  numerous.  It  would  be  itnjKissiblR  for 
Lxindon  to  I>e  more  Iladical  if  every  pauper  had  a  vote.  If  tlir 
&aine  taw  were  in  operation  in  the  Confederate  Slates,  when;  tlie 
electoral  districts  are  otjunl,  it  would  avail  them  very  little  to 
rsriudc  one-third  only  in>in  tlic  sufTrnfre.  We  exclude  a  far 
larger  proportion  in  Lfindon,  witluait  producing  any  apjireciable 
efli-ct  upon  tbe  deniormtic  preilileiititnia  of  the  ruustilueiii'Ies. 
Hut  the  whole  case  is  altered  when  tlie  excluded  c)a«s  consists  of 
a  def^rnded  and  despiked  race.  The  sympatliy  for  the  non- 
electors,  wliich  draws  down  those  above  thetii  to  their  o%vn  views, 
ctMws  altofjether.  All  the  sympathies  of  "the  mean  whites"  in  tlie 
Confederacy  are  with  the  masters,  not  with  tlie  slaves.  The  very 
aversion  to  labour  amon;^  them,  which,  in  a  material  and  moral 
point  of  view,  is  so  detrimrnta],  politically  has  tlic  edcct  of 
causing;  them  to  lean  upon  the  class  alwve  them.  Tlie  planters 
exercise  without  hiiulrauce  itie  natural  influence  of  ^%enltli,  aiHl 
the  lerellini;  tendencies  of  a  ilemocmtlr  form  nf  government  are 
uhi>lly  neutralized.  We  are  very  tar,  indeed,  from  implying  any 
admiration  *»f  slavery  by  thwc  remarks.  We  are  only  pointing 
oat  the  political  inlluence  which,  as  a  matter  nf  fart,  the  institu- 
tion exerts — its  one  virtue  amirl  a  thousand  crimes.  It  prtHlures 
n  verj-  rffectivr — though,  on  manv  ateounts,  a  vrrv  iibjection- 
nble— form  of  nristocrucy  ;  and  for  jiolitii^d  |Tur|Kises  the  com- 
munity in  which  it  exists  presentii  all  the  characteristics  of  an 
aristocratic  constitution.  Among  these  tlie  chief  mkI  nuist 
striking  is  tlic  reaily  production  of  |Kilitirnl  ability,  and  tJie 
eager  recognition  of  it  when  it  i&  produced,  Tlii^  result  lias  Ihvu 
that,  while  the  NorOi  h»»  surrendereii  itself  tii  tlie  guidance  of  ila 
weakest  men,  the  Suutli  has  put  forward  its  strongest.    The  issuo 

is 


5iR 


TJtfi  Confederate  Stru^{}h 


\&  no  matter  of  surprise.  Merc  wealth  and  numbcn  are  no  com< 
ii^nsation  for  feeble  i^'nc-ralifliip  nml  bungling:  admin  is  iration. 
The  contmst  of  institutions,  and  tlie  ctinsequeiit  coucraU  of 
li'ndcfft,  have  told  with  nil  cfli-cl  which  no  disparity  of  rrMnuoM 
rfiuld  rouiiter\-uil.  Skill  has  lieen  more  than  »  matcli  for  brute, 
unintelligent  force  ;  and  the  aristocracy,  that  was  decried  tu  i-uci- 
v.itcd  ami  demoralized,  lias  borne  the  powei-ful  and  bmggul 
democracy  to  the  ground. 

It  would  be  idle  to  deny  the  one  advnntage  which  democrary 
bna  shown  itself  to  possess  during  the  jErreat  experiment  of  which 
we  are  witnessing  the  close.  For  giving  free  course  to  that  rivi» 
lization  whose  fruit  is  material  prosiK-rity  alone,  it  posse8^*s  an 
iintTinalled  efficucr.  Though  it^  intluence  upon  mornlitv  of  aJt 
Itimls  has  been  most  pcrnifioiia,  yet  by  giving  rein  to  the  activity 
and  the  inlellectunl  power  ot*  the  rnco  that  it  tins  fornicil,  it  hai 
conducetl  to  tlie  achievement  of  magnificent  results.  Su  fnms 
mines,  manufactures,  railroads,  and  hnrveitts  are  the  endof  bupian 
existence,  it  has  answered  while  it  lasted:  but  it  b<>re  within  it 
the  seeds  of  speedy  and  inevitable  decay.  It  was  Gsseniiallv  a 
fair-weather  system.  In  a  world  where  there  are  nn  {vilitiral 
ilangrrs — where  discontent,  and  dlsccird,  mid  rebellion  aru  un- 
known— where  such  a  world  is  found,  Demoinvcy  mav  succrrd, 
Probftbly  no  gnrernmont  at  All  would  succee<l  better  still.  But 
until  we  reach  Utopia,  opposing  interests  and  clashing  sentiments 
are  certain  from  time  to  lime  to  engender  cunliict ;  and  n  State 
must  have  a  more  tenacious  orgnnisntinii  and  abler  rulers  tiiAO 
Detnocrary  ean  give  it,  if  it  is  to  withstand  the  stmin.  In  a 
worlfl  full  of  trouble,  the  institutions  that  work  best  in  llie  dav  of 
trouble  arc  those  to  which  a  prudent  community  will  cling. 
The  same  expUinatinn,  to  a  great  extent,  must  be  given  of  the 
other  stmnpe  phenomenon  which  the  present  civil  war  haa  pre- 
sented. That  Detnocrat-v  shiiuld  have  fiiilnl  as  a  madiine  of 
giivernment  is  not  surprising.  It  was  the  pnlnt  uimn  which  ll 
was  geneially  admitted  to  be  weak.  It  wai>  rlaimrci  for  it  by  its 
advocates  that  it  reduced  the  costly  and  ini)>ortuiiate  interference 
practised  by  Government  in  other  lands  to  a  minimum  ;  And  it 
was  granted  tliat  tlits  licDefit  might  possibly  be  counteractefl  in  n 
slight  degree  bv  n  coinpamtivo  wraknrss  in  tlie  executive.  But 
this  is  not  the  only  nor  tlie  inoBt  stnrtlJng  failure  of  the  Americaa 
Democracy.  We  were  scarcely  jirepired  to  sf-e  it  breiik  down 
as  a  guaranter  for  liberty.  It  is  true  that  in  l'"nmce  her  tw« 
revidulions  have  in  mch  casu  ended  in  the  popular  election  t>f 
nn  absolute  Monarch:  hut  we  hardly  expeclinl  l<i  sec  this  pre- 
eedent  followed  by  a  people  of  Anglo-Saxon  IiIimkI.  It  seemed 
impossible  that  the  people  who  were   leading  the  vaiigiuinl  of 

librrtT, 


I 
I 


and  Recognitimi. 


557 


liberty,  whose  irrepressible  love  of  freetlom  set  all  ordinary  laws 
at  tlefiBiice — wlio  were  continually  RXbtllei]  ro  us  as  th<?  pAttcm 
we  werfl  to  follow  so  far  a*  Uie  bondage  of  our  Old-World 
prejudices  would  pormit — that  they  sliould  surtcmlcr  their 
liberties  as  taniclv  as  Ihe  frig-htenetl  tounj'vifie  of  France.  Fate 
has  inilpMl  taken  a  mnli^nant:  pleasure  in  flnutingr  the  admirer* 
of  the  United  Statpjt.  It  is  not  merely  tlint  their  hopes  nf  iti 
untv(rrsal  empire  have  I>pen  disappointinl,  or  their  predii^tions  of 
its  unbroken  prosperity  liave  failcKl :  the  niortifiration  has  been 
much  deeper  than  this.  ICvery  theory  to  which  they  paid  a 
gperial   hoinnjre,  every  political    *-irtiie  for  which  tliey  sought  a 

Cttern  and  an  eni^ouraprmrnt  for  us  in  Amcn<raii  rsampirs, 
s  l)f»en  sucresslvclv  rrpiidiattH)  by  their  favoiiritt*  istateKJiien. 
Tliev  wen*  the  A|KWlles  of  Free  Trade;  America  has  eatahjishi-d 
a  larifli  compared  to  which  our  heaviest  protection-tariff  hu  been 
flimgy.  They  denounced  all  past  wars  ns  a  device  for  giving 
onit-iloor  rplief  U>  the  aristorrapv,  and  pmphesieil  that  ;is  the 
nristorraey  lost  ^K>wer  war  would  disapjH'ar  :  their  |>et  (iovern- 
menl  has  wjifj'^l  war  witli  a  frrtic^ity  which  must  have  lieeii  learnt 
not  from  European,  but  from  Ke<l  Indian  precetleutij.  'I"hey 
called  fur  cheap  government,  and  inveighed  against  costly  es- 
tnbliylimnnLs  and  accumutatt-d  debt  as  a  penalty  for  aristocratic 
rule  :  America  has  mortgaged  its  future  industry  at  n  mte  as  far 
»Ts«T<'diiig  the  priKlignlitv  of  Hw  Kn^liKli  Govcniment  ajs  tlic 
Mi!>!>isslpp)  exceeds  the  Tliames,  ami  has  puiehased  nothing  but 
disfmco  and  disaster  with  the  monov.  And  now  the  heaviest 
blow  lias  fallen  on  their  dreams.  America  was  the  land  of  free- 
dom,^ — of  government  not  only  im  the  people,  but  by  the  jwojjlc, 
of  strong  subjects  and  weak  autlionty,  foundKl  on  the  rights  of 
iiiiin  and  the  iiialirnable  claim  of  the  ruleti  to  choose  the  ruler: 
slie  lias  become  a  laml  of  pass]iorts,  of  conscriptions,  of  prejss> 
cens4>r^ip  and  post-ofHcc  espionage,  of  bastilles  and  lettrr*  tir 
cachet.  Until  the  approach  of  Stonewall  Jackson  lorcc<l  him  to 
relax  hi*i  griisp,  there  was  little  iliffrrence,  save  in  the  genius  of 
tlie  rulers,  between  the  Ciovemment  of  Mr.  Lincoln  and  the 
Government  of  Napoleon  III.  There  was  the  form  of  a  legi»- 
latire  assembly,  where  scarcely  any  dared  to  op|>ose,  for  fear  of  a 
charge  of  treason.  There  has  been  the  same  manipulati<m  of 
the  eh-etious — forcible  in  Kentucky  and  Mnrvland,  and  corrupt 
elsewhere.  There  lias  been  the  proclamation,  and  there  is  to 
he  the  enforcement,  of  even  a  more  pitiless  conscription.  The 
disregard  of  personal  liberty  luu  been  still  greater:  and  till 
Pope's  last  disastrous  retreat,  iho  subjection  of  tlie  Press*  has 

been 


*  As  the  ensbvcnieDt  of  ifae  Pmi  op  to  tbtf  date  of  the  fltvoitd  bsMle  of  Bnll't 


been   »tUl   more   complete.     It    was  a  curious   and    instructiTc 
pxliibition  in  the  ]intt('m  laml  of  liberty. 

VVr  ()r>  not  blnmr  tlic  Ainrricnns  for  roanrting  I«  slrnng  tnea- 
sures  in  a  time  of  great  national   dan^er^     No  Slate,  liuwtvi 
wi-ll  govcnifHl,  has  been  able  to  ilispeme  with  tliein   in  tlir  \v 
Bcncc  (if  arme<I  revolt.     But  the  rvi!  symptom  lies,  not  in 
fact  that  strong  mea-^iiires  h«*'e  been  used,  but  in  the    mwlf*  il 
which   they  Imve  been  ndopteil,  and   the  teni|>t'i-  in  wlurli   thrj 
liave  l)een  reiTJvecl.      Tliero  is  no  Parlianientan'  autliorilv  whal 
over   for  what    has  Im^cu  done.       It  has   been    done    simply 
Mr.  Liiicbin's  fiat.     At  his  simple  bidding,  acting  by  uo  autt 
rity  but  his  own  pleasure,  in  plain  defiance  of  the  pruvisioiK  d 
the  Constitution,   the  Hiilicas  Corpus  A«t  has  bct-ii   suspended, 
the  press  muzzled,   and    judjiji's    [iivvcnlf-il  by  arinetl    men  fn 
enforeiufT  tni  the  citizens'  bfhalf  llie  laws  to  which  llu-v  aiitl  ll 
I'n^sidcnt  alike  have  sworn.      If  the  su&pension  liad  been  authe 
riswl    by  due  course   of    law,    after    deljatc  in   a    representatii 
assembtv,  there  would  at  least  have  been  a  fair  invsum[>tiaa 
the  neccssitv  of  such  measures.     If  it  had  been  done  in  a  despotil 
nuinarehy,  by  an  autocrat  who  claimed  to  rule  by  right  divit» 


Itiui  hiu  bren  deni«1,  we  sabjoin  cridencia  of  the  fact  from  the  ps^es  of 
WilliaiTii,  though  ihr  fact  !tM-lf  i«  nolorioui  tfuongli : — 

'  'VUv  roUoiriii);  are  amouK  lite  li-ading  ii««))|iaperf,  Uw  circnlattoii  of  v4 
Ins  Iiwn  mpprv^aed  by  order  of  i)ii^  Giw^mmuni:  —  In  New  York  Cilv, 

*  Jounal  of  Commerce,'  'Ncwb,'  'Daj'-bcok,'  and  '  Freeman's  Jouruni ;'  iii'Pi 
^ylTunin,  Uie  ■  CUriUian  ObseiTer;'  in  Missouri,  llic  '  Juunial.'  '  MHsoiinan,*  afi 

•  IIoMld.*     Tho«  BDppreSfttd  by  ihe  mob  are  llw  •  Stniidan)  '  i('cm«Jnl.   N.  II- 
'  Ucraocrul '  (Haiijjor,  Maine),  'Paiin«r'  ( Bndgi'iwrt,  CooMeticut).   "  S.'uiiBtl 

( t^ton.  Pa.),  lutd  the  '  UupubliL-au  '  (Wntcliarter,  Pa.).    Tits  '  New  York  Hcralil* 
was  BBsailpd  by  tin-  mob,  bitl  wiik  K[ian.>d  on  becumitig  a  GoTonnnpBl  pop«r. 

'  Nolbitii;  can  nmrv  cU^ily  il1nslr«lc  the  atwr  »i]b}c«lion  of  the-  p(^H>1«  of  itte 
North  tb«iuKlve>  to  the  deapotiiiu  which  in  a  fvw  short  muiilhs  luu  rulibnl  than 
of  cvt^ry  vtftige  of  lhi;lr  roriner  liberty,  tliaii  llic  fdUnwiug  rxtmiM  fmiii  the  car 
of  tlie  cilitor.  M.  K,  .MnuMttu,  of  tbc'-riMiriM-  Av»  KtaU  Uni*."  a  FreucU  pojwL 
pnbltshed  iu  N«w  York,  oo  rvtjriu^  by  ordi.T  of  tbir  Uorcmuem  fruiu  the  rditop 
ship  of  that  paper.  He  gays  that  lu  fulurc  the  paper  will  confine  iuwlf  alroply  u 
ihc  news  of  the  day,  as  That  is  all  which  is  pormiiieil,  and  ihal  he  himself  wi| 
rctiru  until  tbe  tini«  arrive*  wb«Q  h«  will  he  permitied  lo  k\>eak  his  aentinKUl 
Hu  witicltidrs  na  follows  :— 

'  "  To^lay  Ds  in  April — still  mon-  than  ihon — I  nm  convinced  ihac  war  will  MC^ 


iBVf  Ibe  Uui^Q,  and  thai,  on  (he  oUier  band,  il  will  deatroj  Uie  Henublic.     1  am 
esti'ificid  llmt  ibi;  iiiajoiiiy  of  the  ualiiui  stitMoiU  U\  u  war  wliicit   it  dock  ant 


■  : 

V  npprom'i  witlioiit  ht-Eieving  in  the  Iwppv  teriiiinniiriu  aliout  which   it 

I  delude  the  p«>ph'.     I  uu  ntisfied  that  Th«  war  is  lh«  work  of  a  prty.  who 


who  wi^^l 
utmiM  H^H 
CommImH 

S    nlnrwA^H 


puah  it  tu  the  lost  extremity,  without  besiutiuE:  at  luiy  tiieaiit.  to  nwiLlmm 
snpremory.     In  ull  this  I  see  iiotliing  but  opprt-nsmci,  niiii— thru,  as  a  last  coi 
liim,  iiieviisble  revolution.     And  aa  the  NiTiiatioii  in  which  the  PnjM  il  pliic«4 
only  leaves  me  tbe  cboi^v  betwavu  bUndly  prainng  eTirryihmg  or  boJdlni^  mj 
toDjTue,  I  decide  opon  siltdicv." 

The  Ikrlief  on  Ihe  part  of  the  Washington  GoverinnAiit  thai  iuch  extreme 
tnnsurv»  are  uecessary,  pmveii  oimeliuively  that  there  must  be  a  stmng  tttlmgDt 
disapprobntioa  oo  the  port  of  the  pcopli:  aguost  the  war.' 


and  Recognition.  559 

it  at  least  would  have  excited  no  surprise  and  infring-ed  no 
existing  rights.  But  there  is  something  both  revolting  and 
absurd  in  these  pranks  of  despotism  on  the  part  of  the  President 
of  a  Republic  who  was  elected  but  yesterday  for  the  special  pur- 
pose of  upholding  the  Constitution.  It  has  been  an  unhappy 
freak  of  fortune  that  the  first  result  of  this  crusade  to  confer 
freedom  on  the  blacks  has  been  a  formidable  inroad  upon  the 
existing  liberties  of  the  whites. 

And  how  has   it  been   received  ?    how  has   this   intolerable 
usurpation  been   endured  ?    how  have  the  bulwarks  which  the 
founders  of  the  Republic  provided  to  guard  the  liberties'  both  of 
States  and  individuals — how  have  they  stood  the  strain?     The 
independent  Supreme  Court — the  guardian  of  the  Constitution — 
superior  in  its  attributes  to  Congress  itself — specially  charged  to 
protect  tlic  separate  rights  of  the  States — how  has  it  exocuted  its 
function  of  resisti'ng  the  encroachments  of  the  Central  Govern- 
ment?    Everything  has  given  way  before  them.      The  whole 
fabric  of  legal    restraints   has  been   swept  aside  by  President 
Lincoln  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  cobwebs ;  and  to  all  appeals 
against  his  proceedings,  a  corporal's-guard  and  a  convoy  to  Fort 
La    Fayette   has  been   tlie  summary  reply.      Legislative  bodies, 
purged  of  their  refractory  members,   have  silently  acquiesced. 
Newspapers,  terrified  by  threats  of  suppression,  have  not  till  very 
recently  ventured  to   complain.     Speakers  at  public  meetings, 
like  Mr.   Ingersoll,    have  paid  by  the  loss  of  their  liberty  Uie 
penalty  for  a  few  outspoken  words  of  blame.      Even    private 
intercourse  between  friend  and  friend  has  not  been  safe.      Mr. 
Lincoln  has  not  yet    organised    a    corps    of    spies  ;    among   the 
American  people  they  might,  perhaps,  be  difficult  to  find  :  but  a 
word  dropped  against  the  conduct  of  the   Government  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  if  overheard  by  a  policeman,  has  sufficed 
to  consign  the  utterer  to  the  cells  of  the  American  Bastille.    Nay, 
so  complete  has  been  the  destruction  of  liberty,  that  subordinates 
have    ventured     to    inflict    arbitrary    imprisonment    upon    their 
personal  enemies,   for  crimes   of  which  no  vestige  of  proof  is 
producible.     The  case  of  poor  Colonel  Bedge,  a  staunch  and 
eager  Federal  soldier,  who  was  imprisoned  for  three  weeks  without 
the  pretence  of  a  hearing,  and  in  perfect  ignorance  of  his  alleged 
crime, — which  was  a  trumped-up  charge  of  horse-stealing, — suffi- 
ciently shows  how  completely  civil  liberty  has  disappeared.    Mr. 
Lincoln   is  a  poor  plagiarist  in  the  arts  of  tyranny.     There  is 
nothing  striking   or  original  in  his  proceedings ;   his  plan  is, 
just  like  that  of  any  Old-World  despot,  to  crush   out  adverse 
opinion  by  sheer  force.     He  suppresses  newspapers,  manipulates 
news,  seizes  the  telegraph,  imprisons  hostile  speakers  and  writers. 
Vol.  112.— iVo.  224.  2  o  and 


560  The  Confederate  Struggle 

and  gives  fall  rein  to  the  passions  of  his  subordinates, 
just  as  any  Louis  Napoleon  might  do :  and  the  Courts,  which 
were  established  to  guard  the  citizens'  rights,  yield  to  his  en- 
croachments tamely.  His  will  unsanctioned  by  any  legislative 
authority  has  been  held  to  be  a  sufficient  bar  to  actions  I'or  false 
imi)risonment,  a  sufficient  return  to  writs  of  habeas  corpus. 

It  is,  no  doubt,  true,  that  as  danger  drew  near  to  the  walls  of 
Washington,  President  Lincoln  relaxed  many  of  his  most  ob- 
noxious edicts.  Travelling  was  again  permitted  in  the  States,  a 
modest  opposition  was  suffered  to  show  itself  in  the  New  York 
newspapers,  the  publication  of  true  intelligence  ceased  to  be 
'  treason,  and  a  judge  in  the  extreme  Northern  State  of  Vermont 
even  ventured  to  dispute  the  validity  of  a  lettre  de  cachet.  Even 
in  his  repentance  President  Lincoln  but  humbly  continued  to 
follow  in  the  steps  of  European  despots.  The  only  possible  pre- 
text for  his  violent  measures  was  the  danger  of  the  Republic, 
and  this  is  the  apology  which  his  partisans  have  offered  for  him. 
But  the  sharpest  period  of  his  despotism  was  the  time  when 
the  Republic  was  comparatively  safe.  It  only  began  to  relax 
when  the  danger  of  the  Washington  Government  became  ex- 
treme. His  sudden  return  to  constitutional  paths,  coinciding 
exactly  with  the  approach  of  Jackson,  bears  a  suspicious  resem- 
blance to  the  constitutions  which  so  many  European  despots 
granted  one  after  another  in  the  spring  months  of  1848.  His 
universal  proclamation  of  martial  law  as  soon  as  the  Con- 
federates had  rt!cro!i-sed  tlie  Potiimac,  boars  a  suspicious  rcscm- 
bliiiice  to  t!ie  laciiltv  with  which  most  of  these  constitutions 
wen;  taken  back.  Whatever  course,  in  his  extremity,  he  may 
now  tiiink  it  prudent  to  take,  the  fact  still  remains  the  same, 
that  for  fifteen  months,  under  his  rule,  absolute  power  was  the 
only  law  in  the  Republic  that  was  set  up  by  Washington  to 
vJiKlieate  the  rights  of  man. 

Surely  there  inust  be  something  rotten  in  the  political  condition 
of  a  roinitiy  in  which  freedum  could  i>e  overborne  so  rapidlv,  even 
if  it  should  turn  out  that  the  constraint  was  only  temporary,  until 
the  pressing  danger  had  passed  away.  A  free  people,  worthy  of 
the  blessings  they  enjoy,  do  not  allow  their  liberties  to  be  sus- 
pended even  for  a  time,  except  !>v  legislative  power,  and  under 
jealously  watched  precautions.  The  precedent  is  one  that  can 
easily  be  turned  against  them  at  some  future  time.  What  one 
President  has  done  bv  an  arbitrary  decree,  another  President 
may  do,  with  less  ground  for  it  and  worse  aims.  If  a  standing 
army  is  to  be — as  seems  most  probabh; — a  permanent  institution 
in  the  States,  a  military  President  will  not  bo  an  impossibility. 
If  he  should  be  inclined — as  military  commanders  sometimes  are 

—to 


and  Recognition.  561 

— to  make  his  own  power  absolute,  Mr.  Lincoln*s  precedents, 
which  no  one  has  ventured  to  gainsay,  will  be  ready  to  his  hand. 
It  is  now  the  undisputed  law  of  the  United  States  that  a  Presi- 
dent may  suspend  civil  liberty  whenever  and  for  as  long  as  he 
thinks  fit ;  and  whenever  he  has  an  attached  army  to  carry  out 
his  commands,  the  suspension  is  likely  to  last  for  an  indefinite 
time.     All  these  dangers  must  be  as  evident  to  the  most  super- 
ficial politician  of  the  Northern  States  as  they  are  to  us.      And 
yet,  until  the  near  approach  of  the  Confederates  unchained  all 
tongues,  no  voice  was  raised  against  encroachments  so  fatal  in 
principle,  and  at  the  time  so  uncertain  even  in  their  immediate 
issue.     We  feel  that  such  things  could  not  have  taken  place  In 
England,  whatever  the  public  danger  might  have  been.     The 
event  in  our  history  which  corresponds  the  most  nearly  to  the 
present  American  civil  war,  was  the  Rebellion  of  1745.      It  was, 
in  essence,  an  insurrection  of  one  part  of  the  kingdom  against  the 
other,  and  was,  in  a  great  measure,  provoked  by  antipathies  of 
temper  and  of  race,  not  very  dissimilar  to  those  which  lie  at  the 
root  of  the  present  civil  war.     Up  to  the  retreat  from  Derby,  it 
was  quite  as  threatening  as  the  American  rebellion  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  year  ;  and  there  was  this  further  analogy,  that  one  of 
its  most  formidable  features  was  the  ■  extensive  sympathy  it  com- 
manded in  the  very  heart  of  the  loyal  counties.     But  the  Knglish 
Government  of  that  day  did  not  think  themselves  justified,  by  the 
imminence  of  the  public  danger.  In  suspending,  of  their  own  au- 
thority, every  guarantee  for  civil  liberty.     They  did  not  suppress 
hostile  newspapers,  or  enforce  a  conscription,  or  establish  martial 
law,  byi  Royal  proclamation,  or  forbid  any  Englishman  to  leave 
English  shores,  or  throw  men  into  prison  for  twelve  months  with- 
out cause  assigned  or  hearing  grante<],  or  send  men  to  the  Tower 
for  expressing,  within  hearing  of  a  policeman,  a  pity  for  the  volun- 
teers who  were  marching  to  the  war.     Still  less  did  they  venture 
to  arrest  judges  for  giving  judgments  which  were  not  to  their 
mind.     Whatever  their  inclinations  may  have  been,  such  mon- 
strous Invasions  of  English  liberty  would  have  been  beyond  their 
power  to  commit     The  rebellion  itself  would  have  been  a  slight 
danger  compared    to   tlie   resistance  which   any  such   attempts 
would  have  aroused.     Yet  this  was  in  Monarchical  England  a 
century  ago ;  not  in  Republican  America,  in  the  full  blaze  of  the 
nineteenth    century.      Surely  there    must    be    a   cause    for   this 
startling  contrast.     Both  nations  inherit  the  same  traditions  of 
freedom  and  the  same  Anglo-Saxon  courage.      How  is  it  that  a 
people  reputed  so  unruly,  have  become  suddenly  so  tame? 

It  is  only  in  their  Institutions  that  we  can  find  the  explanation 
for  this  sudden  pliability.     In  part  it  must  be  imputed  to  the 

2  o  2  vehement 


562 


The  Confetierate  i>intfft/k 


velioinent  jiartisansliip  which  Las  su  long  marked  the  course  ' 
American  politics.  The  habit  of  compromuin^  nodding, 
S^ivlnp  no  quarter  to  a  minority,  and  expectiu;i  uonc  from 
majoritv,  is  not  n  liahit  of  mind  likely  lo  encourage  n  reverent 
for  individual  freedom.  Sending  the  minority  to  prison,  is 
proceeding  cnly  om*  degree  more  severe  than  the  utler  politics 
rxterniination  which  hiis  always  Ijcen  enjoined  by  the  laws 
wnr  in  the  electioneering  conflicts  of  the  United  States, 
undoubtedly  the  chief  cause  is  the  absence  of  any  proniinc 
elass  to  act  as  lenders  in  defending  the  laws  and  liberties 
the  country.  Old  King  Tartjuin  knew  what  he  was  aboi 
when  lie  syni)M>li6(Hl  the  snrrst  miHli:  it\'  trnslaving  a  rixniiiitnil 
hy  striking  olf  the  heads  of  the  tallegt  poppies.  Deniucraei 
has  fwocecdcd  upon  King  Tartjuin's  principle,  an*I  has  mh 
cessfully  achieved  the  results  that  he  predicted.  If  the  hcac 
of  the  tidiest  poppies  have  not  been  cut  off,  tare  at  least  has  bee 
bikoii  that  thfv  should  ntit,  frrnw  above  the  cumuKin  level, 
community  has  bifii  produced  with  n{>  h-ading  and  indcpundr-t 
cln%s,  and  its  liberties  have  been  yielded  up  at  the  lintt  assault 
It  could  no  more  have  resisted  the  onset  of  an  organised 
armed  bureaucrncy,  than  n  rabble  of  peasants  ran  resist  an  arm^ 
America  is  not  the  onlv  illustmtion  of  tliis  trutli  that  the  jiresetl 
a^o  has  witiiesst-fl.  Hungary  im  one  side,  and  France  im  thi 
iitlier,  slrikinglv  demimstnite  how  tenafiiuisly  a  |»r»»i»le  ran  din 
to  its  liberty  when  they  have  natunil  leadei-s  to  guidf  them, 
tamely  they  can  yield  it  up  when  they  have  not. 

But  events  appear  to  be  hastening  on  tu  a  crisis  which  m\ 
furce  on   us  far  f>t1irr  considerations  than  tliesp.      Fngland  hi 
liitherto  been  an  inert  and  jiassive  bysUuider.      I'riHludcil  hy  b< 
uniform   policy  of  neutrality  from   interveninjj  in  a  struggle  n 
which  she  was  bearing  far  more  than  a  neutral's  share,  she 
l»een  content  to  sit  still  and  watch.     There  has  In-en  much  f'l 
us  to  learn  from  recent  events,  frum   whatever  point  of  view 
may  regard  them,     Thev  have  left  a  dcii!p  and  permanent  ninrk 
upon  the  convictions  of  tlie  Knglish  |H>ople.     A  few  years  ago  a 
delusive  optimism  wiis  creeping  over  the  minds  of  men.     There 
was  a  tendency  to  push  the  Ijelief  in  the  moral  victories  of  civiii^ 
sattiHt  to  itii  excess  which  now  seems  incrc<liblc.    It  was  esteemf 
hemsy  to  distrust  buvImkIv,  nr  to  act  as  if  anv  evil  stUI  remainc 
in  human    nature.     At  home   we  were  eshurted    to  shuw    *ut 
confidence  in  our  countrymen,'  by  confulin;;  the  guidance  of  <*i( 
policy  to  the  ignorant,  and  the  txjx-nditart;  of  oui-  wealth  to 
m-etly.     Abroad,  we  were  invited  to  believe  that  commerce  hni 
triumphed  where  Christianity  had  failed,  and  that  exports  one 

ini] 


and  Eccoffnilion. 


bm 


iinjiuits  liail  Ijanishcd  war  frDtn  the  earth.  And  giTiiirmllv  wc 
\ver<5  encimrn^cil  to  congratuUte  ourselves  tlmt  wc  were  jtcrina- 
ncntlv  liftr-il  up  from  tbc  niirc  of  piisskm  and  jirrjudire  in  which 
our  ("orelathcrs  had  waliowwl.  The  last  fifteen  vcars  have  be«n 
om*  hjiijf  disenchjuitment ;  ond  the?  American  civil  war  is  the 
cutinination  of  tlie  process.  VVV  now  know  huw  the  j^tiveniinent 
of  the  multitude  nnsircrs  in  trvinj;  times,  and  bow  the  love  of 
peace  flourishes  among  the  most  trading  nation  iii  the  world. 
Ami  Vfp  have  seen  a  hopeless  war  persisted  in  with  an  objectless 
passion  which  neither  kinj;  nor  aristocrncT  could  rival,  and 
disg^raccd  h_v  atrocities  so  foul  and  fearful  that  wc  must  recur  to 
the  wars  of  Tilly  to  fmd  a  parallel.  It  is  some,  tliough  a  very 
faint,  consolation  for  all  that  we  ore  sufTcring  from  this  terrible 
contest,  that  our  optimist  delusions  arc  probably  cured  fur  another 
quarter  of  a  century  at  the  leasL 

But  the  time  seems  to  be  passing  fast  in  which  wc  can  confine 
our  tliou?hts  to  the  abstract  lessons  tliat  have  been  taught  by  tbo 
civil  war.  A  new  order  of  thing*  is  being  opened  to  us  by  the 
events  that  are  passinp  as  we  write.  What  may  be  the  fate  of  the 
cam|wiffn  wliicli  is  now  profrrrasins  it  is,  of  course,  impossible 
to  predict.  Wc  must  ^ive  up  the  hope  of  iKing  able  to  con- 
jecture the  probable  course  of  events  even  durine  the  brief  interval 
which  must  elapse  before  the  lines  we  are  writing'  cnn  meet  the 
rcjider's  eye.  Before  tlint  time  it  is  not  beyond  the  range  of  po». 
sibilitv  that  .Jackson  should  be  on  his  way  to  New  Viirk,  or 
McClellan  on  hi*  way  to  Kichmond.  A  more  probable  con- 
tingency is  that  the  fighting  will  contintic  with  various  succcm 
not  far  from  the  banks  of  the  Potomac.  But  whatever  the  fortune 
of  war  may  lie  on  the  debateable  land  that  separates  the  two  Con- 
federations, no  spectator  ran  by  this  time  entertain  any  doubt  as 
to  what  will  be  the  pntcticnl  upshot  of  the  struggle.  The  deso- 
lating warfare  may  be  continue<l  until,  to  use  ("ommander  Maury's 
fefirful  phrase,  the  combatants  shall  drift  into  a  war  of  exhaustion. 
But  whether  tlie  cost  in  bUnid  and  money  be  great  or  small,  there 
can  be  but  one  issue  to  the  contest — the  Southern  Stairs  must 
form  an  indepi'ndent  nation.  Tim  hatred  between  the  two  parties 
is  too  deadly  for  reconciliation,  and  ihclr  warlike  power  is  too 
nearly  balanced  for  permanent  con(|ue!>t.  There  Is  just  the  same 
chance  of  the  Federals  reeonipiering  the  Cmton  States  that  th'-re 
wa>i<if  the  SjBiniards  reconquering  Mexico  in  1822.  The  Simlh- 
eniers  have  shown  every  cliaracleristic  that  can  mark  an  inde- 
pendent nation.  They  have  mnde  tlic  costliest  sacrifices  that  meo 
can  make  to  assure  tlu-ir  freedom  from  a  foreign  rule,  and  they 
hare  fought  for  it  with  a  gallantr}-  that  has  not  been  surpassed 
in  all  the  wnrs  of  Hljcration  the  world  hos  seen.     Of  their  power^ 

of 


77ifl  CoTifaderatc  Strufff/ic 

of  wlf-jjnvemmcnt  ami    cohesion   they  have   gi\-cn   proofs  Uiai 
cannot  be  piinsaiJ.     Historv  fontulns  harJIv  another  instance  i>| 
a  govprnment  »>  roinplrtc,  so  i-fTrftive,  so  |K)wcrful,  so  pnpii!.ir, 
80  wiiM?!^'  guiiit-il,  aiitl   so   wlOI   ulji-ypd,  starting  into   life  at  the 
first  nulsct  of  a  revolution,  utmost  in  sig-hl  of  the  enrni)'  it  had 
dofiCfl.     Neither  in  the  ojx-ning  history  of  the  Uoiled  Provinces 
nor  in  that  of  the  United  States  themselves,  can  any  parallel  be 
found  for  this  oinrvcllous  feat  of  ailiniuistrative  enerj^v  and  skill.  ^H 
The  display  of  thr_se  imalitii^  on  the  jtart  uf  this  new  natiptialiljf^l 
is  not  without  praetii-al  interefit  to  os.      Defore  long  it  will  rompcl 
our  Government  to  abandon  tlic  inactivo  and  silent  p:u-t  which  1^^ 
has  hitherto  maintaine<t.     If  the  Confederates  ha\-e  provcf]  thenHH 
selves  to  be'  a  nation,  as  a  nation  they  will  demand  that  we  shoulo^ 
rccopiise  them.     It  is  elenr  tliat,  sooner  or  later,  we  must  accede 
to  the  demand.      The  time  is  rapidly  approFiching  when  even  the 
thtvatened  displeasure  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  (iovernment  will  not  be  a 
justifinition  sufficient  to  excuse  us  fium  fulfilling  the  plain  nbli 
giitions  of  international  law.     If  the  Federals  persist  in  refusii 
to  recognise  the  verdict  of  the  ordeal  to  which  they  hare  ap[>ealt 
a  time  must  come  when  we  can  no  !ong>:r  imitate  their  blindnea 
Wc  cannot  for  ever  carry  on   the  nffairs  of  t])i»  practical   worlf 
upon   the  liyp«)tlipsis  that  the  IJnitwi  Slates  an*  rulers  over 
cnonnous   region  tliat  b:is  cast  them  oft,  and  into  which,  in  fac 
tlieir  armies  cannot  venture  out  of  gunshot  of  the  water,  niplnmatlj 
recoffnition  is  not  an  empty  ceremony,  to  be  jwrformed  or  omitt< 
according  to  the  convenience  of  the  moment.     It  ha»  a  pi'actt< 
sif^nthcance  and  value  to  the  nation  ircoi^nising,  as  well  as  to  tl 
nation  recognisetl :  it  means  nothing  lest  llian  the  pi)wcr  of  pi 
ti'Cting  our  citizens  and  commerce  M'itliiii   tlic  juiiwlictiun  of  tl 
iHiwei  we  recognise.     In  admitting;  diplomatienUv  the  indisputab 
fact  that  Mr.  Jefferson  Davis  and  the  Congress  al  Richuiimd  are 
the  rulers  of  tlie  Southern  States,  wc  do  not  merely  pay  them  an 
idle  civility,     Wlwt  we  thereby  do  is  to  saddle  them  with  a  re- 
S|KinsibiIilv  for  all  that  is  done  to  British  ritixens  by  the  authoritici 
<if  tlie  region  over  which  they  rule.     As  maiti-rs  stand  now,  wo_ 
have  no  redress  if  a  British  subject  is  maltreated.     If  tlir  wrt 
be  done  at  a  seap()rt,   we  might  bombard  the  town;  but  if 
were  done  at  Montgomery  or  Richmond,  wc  should  lie  abaolutctj 
without  resource.      We  could   not  plead  international    law  to  tl 
Government  at  Richmond  ;  for  international  law  regulates  nnl 
the  relation  Ix-tween  two  n-ttirjus,  and  tlie  Confedemit-'i,  Uv 
own  decision,  are  not  a  nation.      We  could  not  inxade  thi-  Inrit* 
of  the  Confederate  States,  because,  on  our  tlujory,  they  nm  sti 
part  of  the  territory  of  the  Government  that  rules  at  Washingli)| 
A*  a  matter  of  strict  law,  the  only  person  wo  can  call  to  accui 


and  Recognition.  565 

for  any  wrong  done  to  one  of  the  Queen's  subjects  at  Richmond 
is  President  Lincoln.  It  of  course  would  be  out  of  the  question 
practically  that  any  proceeding  so  absurd  should  be  taken.  But 
still  that  ridiculoqs  predicament  brings  home  to  us  the  fact  that 
the  only  Government  responsible  to  us  for  the  well-treatment  of 
the  English  subjects  over  a  vast  region  of  North  A  merica,  is  the 
Government  which,  of  all  others,  has  the  least  power  to  secure  it. 
The  anomaly,  of  course,  is  equally  great  on  the  other  side.  There 
are  hundreds  of  Confederate  citizens  in  England  who  have  no 
legal  guardian  of  their  rights.  To  Mr.  Adams  or  to  any  of  the 
Federal  consuls  they  could  not  apply  without  disavowing  the 
allegiance  which  they  believe  themselves  to  owe  to  the  new 
Government ;  and,  in  disavowing  the  existence  of  that  Govern- 
ment, we  of  course  refuse  to  admit  any  authority  in  its  agents. 
These  things  are  not  a  mere  matter  of  form :  if  they  were,  the 
whole  machinery  of  consuls  and  diplomatists  would  be  a  very 
useless  burden  upon  the  Consolidated  Fund,  The  neglect  of 
them  may  at  any  moment  seriously  compromise  both  national 
interests  and  private  rights. 

In  course  of  time,  then,  the  recognition  must  take  place.  Upon 
that  point  there  is  not  much  difference  of  opinion  upon  this  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  But  there  is  considerable  dispute  as  to  the 
period  at  which  the  inevitable  admission  can  be  properly  made, 
without  needlessly  affronting  the  unreasonable  susceptibilities  of 
the  North.  Formal  pretensions  to  a  dominion  which  is  a  pun> 
chimera  are  no  novelties  in  history.  There  is  something  inex- 
plicable in  the  tenacity  with  which  potentates  have  always  clung 
to  titles  of  power  from  which  the  reality  has  hopelessly  passed 
away.  Our  own  Kings  continued  to  call  themselves  Kings  of 
France  two  centuries  and  a-half  after  the  IeisI  rood  of  French 
ground  had  been  taken  from  us.  The  Empire  of  Germany  was 
'  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  *  until  1806.  The  King  of  Italy,  we 
believe,  still  calls  himself  King  of  Jerusalem  ;  and  his  descendants 
will,  we  have  no  doubt,  continue  to  emblazon  the  cross  of  Savoy, 
in  perpetuam  memoriam  of  tlieir  progenitor's  turpitude,  for  many 
centuries  after  the  mere  recollection  of  his  sway  shall  have  faded 
from  the  valleys  which  were  the  ancient  heritage  of  his  house. 
But  the  peculiarity  of  the  case  of  the  United  States  is  not  that 
they  continue  to  claim  a  dominion  which  they  have  not  got,  and 
are  not  likely  to  recover,  but  that  they  insist  that  all  the  other 
States  of  the  civilised  world  shall  humour  the  delusion.  There 
are  four  or  five  Spanish  families  which,  whenever  the  Spanish 
throne  is  vacant,  always  make  a  solemn  protest  that  the  right 
to  the  succession  really  lies  in  them,  and  that  their  preten- 
sions are  not  to  be  held  barred  by  the  occupancy  of  a  wrongful 

claimant. 


OGG  Tke  Confederate  Sfrrujgle 

claimant.     lint  then  they  play  this  farce  oat  entirely  among 
tliemsL'lve*.     They  <In  not  insist  on  royal  honours,  or  ihlnlc  thcm- 
Sf'lvcs  misuscil   Wcouse  the  Sovereigns  of  Europe  do  not  sciiil 
Ministers  to  rcsidp  at  tln-ir  Courts,      In  process  of  time  wo  may 
hope  tliat  tlin  inexorahle  lo^ic  of  facts  may  reduce  the  Unilwl 
States  Goreniraent  to  the  same  reasonable-  frame  of  mind.     Such 
di^Iusions  cure  themselves  at  last.     But  there  is  no  reason  for 
b'??lipvinp;  that  the  proct^s  of  conviction  will  l>c  a  rapid  one.     As 
far  as  any  pnihahlc  or  prartlca!>]e  ohjt-ct  gotrs,  the  war  will  lie 
just  as  rpiisoiiable  twenty  years  hence  ns  it   is  now.      It   is  very 
likely  tlial  when  rera^ted  defeats  or  the  ultcr  desolation  of  the 
liordcr  countrios  shall  have  put  an  end  to  military  enterprises, 
Uic  United  States  may  follow  the  example  of  Spain,  and  attempt 
to  maintain  their  claims,  or  at  least  to  MTcak  llicir  vengeance,  by 
an  interminable  war  of  iiavnl  ex|H-ditiims.      At  sea  they  may  be 
able  to  niaintnin  their  su^H-riority  fi>r  a  long  time;  an<l  though 
nnval  supremacy  niav  not  enable  tlieni  to  conquer,  it  may  cnidile 
ihcra  to  impoverish  ami  to  nnnov.     It  is  not  impossible  that,  in 
spite  of  any  defeats  on  land,  the  towns  like  New  Orleans,  which 
arc  at  the  mercy  of  gun-boats,  may  ^till  remain  in  their  hands. 
In  fact  thoir  present  hold  upon  the  Confederate  States  amounts 
to  very  little  more  than  the  possession  of  a  few  towns  which  ^n- 
iKKits  can  command.     Under  such  circumstances  it  is  profitable 
U)  call  to  mind  what  policy  the  United  States  themselves  oh5^nTd 
to  another  Government  when  it  was  in  the  plight  in  which  they 
find  themselves  now.  '  In  the  spring  of  1822,  though  there  was 
little  doubt  of  tlie  probable  issue  of  thceffi)vt5  which  ihe  Spfinish- 
Amcrican    Colonies  were  making  to  free    themselves  from   the 
jnother  country,  yet  the  Sp.anish  forces  liad  not  been  expelled 
from  these  colonies ;  and  in  Mexico,  i*ern,  Colombia,  and  Vene- 
zuela, they  still  held  the  most  important  positions.     Under  these 
circumstances,  in  March,  1832,  President  Monroe's  Message  to 
Congress  was  delivered,  .-ind  contained  the  followinj^r  passage; — 

*  As  fioou  88  the  movement  assiuncd  siich  a  steady  and  counisfoni 
form  UK  to  luako  thv  kuccuks  of  tho  Provinces  prolmble,  the  right*  to 
wluch  t]icy  wero  entitled  by  the  T^nw  of  Kationa  as  equal  portioH  to  a 
civil  war  wcro  oxttudcd  to  them.     Jlnch  party  wo«  pcnnitted  to  enter 

(nir  porta  nith  itfl  public  or  prlrato  elups Tlm>ugh  tho  whole 

of  t)ii8  contest  the  United  Stoteti  have  remained  nciitml,  and  ban! 
fiiliillcd  with  tho  atzaoflt  impartiality  all  the  obhgations  ineidont  to 
thai  character.  Tho  contest  has  now  reached  euch  a  stag'-,  and  bwn 
ntt^'iidpd  with  such  decisivo  suecofw  on  the  part  of  the  Pnivinr*'S,  that 
it  mtritft  the  most  profound  consideration,  whether  their  right  to  tho 
rank  of  independent  nations,  with  all  the  odrautagos  incident  to  it  in 
:  theii  iutcrcunrso  with  tho  United  States,  18  not  complote.' 

Tbo 


I 
I 


A 


and  Recognition, 


567 


The  first  part  of  this  extract  curiously  contrasts  wilt  tlie 
invectives  that  thr-y  have  lavished  un  us  for  our  recent  poUcj. 
Thf-y  extcn«lo<i  the  rights  of  belligerents  pnimptly  ami  readily 
eiinugh  t<>  the  revoUtti  Proviiu'cs  of  ypaiu  :  but  they  liave  been 
furious  with  England  for  doiii;^:  the  same  by  the  rcvi^ted  States  of 
America.  The  only  difTerence  between  the  two  cases  is  that 
wc  bcliaved  more  kindly  tu  them  than  they  behaved  to  Spain. 
They  admitted  the  armed  ships  of  Iwth  parties,  while  we  have 
excluded  both  ',  and  the  exclusion  falls  far  ibt*  most  heavily  on 
tilt"  ships  of  the  revolting  Power,  which  has  not  the  command  of 
tin-  sea,  and  ennsrtjuitntly  cannot  use  its  own  ports,  except  by 
breaking  a  blockade. 

President  Monroe's  suggestion  that  the  Senate  should  recognize 
the  revolted  Provinces,  was  naturally  not  very  agreeable  to  the 
S|Ktiiii3b  Minister.  He  replieil  llic  next  day  in  a  ilespatrh  which 
mifrlil  bave  bi-t-n  written  by  Mr,  Suwanl>  except  that  it  contained 
DO  threat  of  wai'.  The  Spanish  Iiabit  of  bravatlo  appears  to  \w  a 
rudimentary  and  imperfect  quality,  comjiarcd  to  the  American 
htibtt  of  brag  :— 

'  In  tho  Xatiooal  Int«Iliguucor  of  this  day  I  have  socu  the  mcsKago  of 
tho  ri-esiJcut,  in  which  he  propuses  tlie  recognition  by  tliy  Unilud 
States  of  the  insiirgt^ut  Guvoroiucnt*  of  Spuaish  AnaTica.     How  gi\iat 
my  surprise  wm,  may  ooaUy  be  judged  by  tuiy  uuc  aoquaiutod  with  tho 
couduot  of  Bjuin  t«twAr<1s  tliiK  It*)piihlii-,  iind  who  knuwB  the  iiimioiisd 
sacrifices  she  bnt)  mado  to  prc({cr\'c  her  fneufUhip.     lu  fact,  w)io  could 
think  that,  in  return  for  as  great  proof  of  friendship  as  one  nation  can 
give  to  another,  ttiin  Kxeeutive  wtmid  propoBu  thai  tliu  iuburrectiun  of 
tho  Ultra-Marine  I'ossessious  of  Spain  should  bo  cooutcnanccd  ?  and, 
moreover,  will  not  hla  astonighmeut  be  augmented  to  see  that  this 
Puw*r-r  iH  diisiriius  to  give  tho  defitructi%'e  isxoiuplu  uf  HancUoning  thft{ 
rebcUiuu  of  provinces  which  have  received  no  o^cuco  from  the  niuthor ' 
oountiy,  to  wbom  she  has  granted  a  pajticipation  of  a  Yroa  Constitu- 
tion, and  to  whom  filie  luw  eitcndod  all  tho  rif^tii  and  prurugativcs  of, 
Spanish  citizens?    In  vain  will  a  parallel  be  attempted,  to  be  drnwor] 
between  the  cmauoipation  of  this  llopublic  and  that  which  tho  BponlalLj 
robuhi  attempt.' 

Then  he  goes  on  to  abuse  the  anarchy  ami  tyranny  of  the  new 
Government,  and  says  tliat  the  sentiments  of  tlie  inhabitants  arc 
suppressed  ;  and  concludes : — 

-  Wliere  are  those  Govoramouts  that  ougbt  to  be  roooguiscd  ?  wfaoro 
Utt)  pliMlgcK  of  tlieir  stability?   where  the  proof  that  Uioku  ProviiiL-L'tf^ 
will  not  iijtum  tit  a  uuiuu  with  Sjioin,  when  ko  many  nf  tli^ir  inhabit* | 
ikQtH  desire  it?     And,  iu  fine,  whore  tho  right  of  tho  United  Staters  to' 
^juictiott  and  dei-]m«^  Icgitinute  u  fubuUion,  without  cause,  and  tho 
ovL-iit  of  wbiuh  is  uot  even  decided  ?  * 

In  spite  of  Uiis  ]imte»t,  in  s|iite  of  the  facts  that  the  Usue  nf 

th« 


568  lite  Cortfiulerate  Sti'ugyle 

the  rebellion  was  not  decided,  and  tbat  *a  desire  for  Union*  with 
tUc  old  Government  existed  atuuug'  many  of  tlie  inhabitant*  of  ^| 
the  recolted  I*rovini't*s,  the  Anifiitaii  statesmen  wei-t*  iiiL'xunible.  ^^ 
Tliev  recognised  Colnrafaia  in  tbt*  course  of  1822,  tboti>;b  PortO 
Cabcltu  ill  tbat  colony  was  not  evacuated  by  tbe  Spaotsh  tn)ops 
till  tlio  8tb  of  November,  1823  ;  and  tliey  recognised  Mexico 
before  the  end  of  1823,  tlmnph  iSt.  Juan  dc  Ulloa  in  that  colony 
wa&notrelin<|uished  by  the  Spanish  troops  till  the  17th  November, 
1825.  Surely  they  cannot  complain  if  the  measure  which  thcj 
meted  out  to  others  is  meted  back  to  them. 

Tbe  recognitioa  of  a  State  whose  independence  is  geDOine  it 
wti  a.  f^uestion  of  interest,  but  of  li^ht.  U  is  a  right  tliat  we  have 
acknowlcdfjctl  repeatedly,  sometimes  even  beforc.it  bad  actually 
nccmed  :  liclgium,  Greece,  Italy,  Me.\ico,  Krazil,  and  all  the 
Centnil  aiul  S<mUi  American  Kepublies,  are  in&tances  of  the 
alacrity,  sometimes  premature  and  excf?8si%'e,  with  which  England 
has  recognised  each  new  member  of  the  fiunily  of  nations.  Slie 
Itas  accepted  accomplished  facts,  and  has  steadily  iffuAetl  to 
enter  upon  any  scrutiny  of  the  process  by  ^vhich  those  lacts  were 
accoun>lishL-<l.  .She  cannot  depart  in  the  present  msc  from  her 
invariable  rule,  without  ca&ting  a  slur  upon  the  purity  of  bcr  tiwn 
motives  on  former  occasions,  and  implymg  that  she  was  actuated 
not  by  a  fixed  poltey,  but  by  the  desire  of  some  politieal 
advantage.  And  If  she  breaks  through  her  onn  prrccdcnU 
merely  to  subserve  the  purposeless  revenge  oi  the  Xorthem 
States,  she  will  only  deepen  in  their  minds  tbe  conviction  that 
she  can  be  bullie*!  with  imptmity,  on  which  they  liarc  »'»  often 
aplcd  during  ibe  last,  fifty  years.  There  ore  a  Tew  politician* 
among  us  wlio  entertain  a  tbeor)'  that  we  arc  bound  to  make  a  ^A 
special  exception  to  tlie  prejudice  of  the  Confederacy,  because  of  ^| 
its  internal  institutions.  \Ve  cannot  be  friends,  tlic-y  say,  with  a  ^^ 
Slave  Power.  Their  zeal  has  eaten  up  all  recollection  of  past 
histoiy  and  present  faett.  En;rlnnd  has  never,  in  her  iitteT> 
national  dealings,  taken  any  cognisance  of  the  internal  institutions 
of  other  States.  We  fM?rtainly  have  no  admiration  for  the 
*■  peculiar  institution.'  Unless  jealously  supcnised  by  public 
authority,  it  gives  opportunities  for  very  fearful  cruelty  ;  and  in 
all  cases  it  exercises  a  detcnorating  and  paralyzing  inRuencc  on 
the  white  man.  And  the  odious  law,  under  wliieh  tlie  oflspring 
follows  the  condition  of  the  mother,  invf?sts  the  slavery  uf  the 
Confederate  States  with  a  special  horror,  and  strips  it  uf  tbe 
apology  which  the  inferiority  of  the  African  race  supplies.  The] 
sale  of  female  quadroons  is  on  abomination  which  im>  civilised, 
State  ought  to  tolerate.  That  the  perpetuation  of  this  and  niauy 
other  abuses  is  due  to  the  irritation  caused  by  the  mendacious 

aud 


OUO  ^1 


aiid  Recognition.  569 

and  unscrupulous  agitation  of  the  Abolitionists,  it  is  impossible 
to  doubt.  When  the  lapse  of  time  shall  have  freed  the  question 
from  the  disturbing  elements  of  party  spirit  and  national  pride, 
the  Confederates  will  be  exposed  to  the  same  moral  influences 
as  those  which  are  gradually  chasing  slavery  from  the  colonies  of 
every  European  Power.  Their  own  national  pride  will  make 
them  eager  to  wash  off  what  the  rest  of  the  civilised  world  look 
upon  as  a  stain.  That  a  general  emancipation  will  be  an 
immediate  or  even  an  early  result  of  the  success  of  the  Con- 
federates, we  do  not  believe.  But  that  those  ameliorations  of  the 
slave's  condition  will  be  introduced  which  in  course  of  time  will 
issue  in  freedom,  is  a  prophecy  which  the  general  teaching  of 
history  makes  it  perfectly  safe  to  hazard.  In  truth  it  is  only  by 
a  gradual  process,  in  which  the  Negro's  culture  and  his  freedom 
shall  increase  together,  that  emancipation  is  either  desirable  or 
safe.  The  Federal  advocates  in  this  country  confess  that  on  any 
other  principle  it  must  be  a  bloody  revolution.  One  writer  pro- 
poses as  a  solution  of  the  difficulty,  that  when  the  North  has 
conquered  the  South,  the  300,000  slaveowners  shall  'be  removed 
by  death,  exile,  or  ruin.'  Another  calmly  admits  that  he  would 
rather  proclaim  at  once  a  servile  war  and  run  the  risk  of  all  the 
Negroes  in  the  South  being  slaughtered  by  tlieir  masters,  than 
allow  slavery  to  continue,  for  however  short  a  time,  undisturbed. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  the  South  should  have  declined  to  submit 
to  the  government  of  philanthropists  of  this  ferocious  type. 

But,  whatever  the  probable  fate  of  slavery  in  the  Confederacy 
may  be,  it  cannot  affect  the  national  duties  of  England.  We  are 
very  good  friends  with  the  Kingdom  of  Spain  and  the  Empire  of 
Brazil,  in  both  of  which  slavery  flourishes,  and  where  there  is 
neither  an  immediate  nor  a  proximate  probability  of  emancipa- 
tion.* Nor  ought  we  to  forget  that  ten  years  have  not  elapsed 
since  we  plunged  into  a  bloody  war,  and  spent  some  eighty 
millions  of  money,  to  uphold  the  integrity  of  an  empire  in 
which  the  white  slave-trade  is  still  carried  on.  A  country 
which  is  united  to  Turkey  by  diplomatic  ties  so  affectionate  and 
confidential  is  not  called  upon  to  be  squeamish  about  the  do- 
mestic institutions  of  its  allies.  But,  in  the  interest  of  the  Anti- 
Slavery  party  themselves,  we  ought  to  be  careful  that  no  hostility 
to  us  should  be  excited  in  the  minds  of  the  Confederates  by  any 
undue  favour  shown  to  their  opponents.  The  new  State  will  be 
bound  by  no  treaties  to  suppress  the  slave-trade,  and  the  prece- 

*  In  Brazil  even  emancipated  slaves  are  disqualified  by  law  from  voting  for 
Senators,  Deputies  to  the  Iiuperiat  Parliament,  and  Members  of  the  Proviucia 
Assemblies,  and  from  being  elected  Senators,  Deputies,  or  Members  of  Provineial 
Assemblies.    These  are  the  ouly  civil  rights  which  they  do  not  enjoy. 

dent 


570  T/ie  Confederate  Struggle  and  Recognition. 

dent  we  ourselves  set  in  the  case  of  the  traders  of  the  Unitcfl 
States  will  preclude  us  from  demanding  a  right  of  search, 
except  where  it  has  been  voluntarily  conceded. 

But,  in  truth,  the  whole  slavery  dispute  seems  petty  and  trivial, 
when  we  read  the  weekly  narrative  of  American  carnage  or  the 
daily  tale  of  Lancashire  starvation.  With  every  respect  to  the 
Negro,  we  cannot  stop  to  inquire  into  wrongs  under  which  he 
apparently  thrives  and  is  happy,  when  the  blood  of  our  own  race 
is  being  poured  out  like  water,  and  our  own  fellow-citizens  are 
perishing  by  inches.  We  cannot  contemplate  the  battle-fields 
strewn  with  corpses,  or  vast  regions  once  busy  and  prosperous 
now  laid  waste  by  war,  and  console  ourselves  with  the  reflection 
that,  if  it  be  only  continued  long  enough,  it  may  possibly  end  in 
promoting  the  Negroes  suddenly  to  a  freedom  which  they  will 
not  appreciate,  and  will  certainly  misuse.  We  cannot  reconcile 
ourselves  to  the  sight  of  a  famine-stricken  population  at  home  by 
the  hope  that,  if  their  sufferings  are  suflBciently  prolonged,  the 
integrity  of  an  aggressive  and  unscrupulous  empire  may  possibly 
be  restored.  Every  consideration  of  humanity  to  those  abroad 
and  those  at  home  demands  that  we  should  do  everything  in  our 
power,  and,  if  need  be,  risk  something,  to  bring  this  fearful  deso- 
lation to  a  close.  As  soon  as  the  time  comes — we  trust  that  it 
may  be  close  at  hand — when,  by  a  fair  interpretation  of  inter- 
national law,  we  can  join  with  other  I'^uropean  Powers  in  recog- 
nising an  indei>endence  which  is  already  an  accomplished  fact, 
there  is  a  fair  hope  that  the  Federals  may  sec  in  our  declaration 
an  honourable  plea  for  retreating  from  a  contest  from  which  they 
will  assuredly  never  be  extricated  by  success. 


Index. 


(    671    ) 


INDEX 


TO  TUK 


HUNDRED  AND  TVTELFTH  VOUJMB  OF  THK  QUARTERLY  JIEVIEW. 


I 


A. 

AanirL'LTtntE,  English,  coatnMvd  with 

IWgtaii,  33B. 
AinL-riva,  susceptibility  lo  Eogllib  criti- 
ci»ii».  435— the  rcc'eril  EiuwicipftUon 
procIaiBilJOii,  D3B— Fcileral  onti»««, 
^MJ— fiuiure  of  Dfmocrutic  inslilu- 
tions,  536— «»eDtiaI  weaLugu  oC  litis 
Fedenl  form  of  gorcTDiuciit,  Ml  — 
dvfecU  of  Dcmocncj.  3i3— prc|>oo- 
derauco  of  (h«  Fedcrml*  iu  uumher 
and  wealth,  54-1— f&ilure  u  corn- 
mail  den,  ailmiuisinitors.  SnoDcien, 
and  iadvpuadHit  sovLTnon,  MS— dc- 
poaltioe  of  MioraT  letdors,  516— ihe 
rtprHeotatiret  dcl^nlcs,  SW  — in- 
oorapcteacy  of  tho  Prwident,  551— 
the  immoTAlilG  ruler  of  a  mob's 
chotc*,  453  —  {xttiUcal  inflaenoe  of 
•Itrorj,  555— eTcry  Amrrieoo  llieorr 
of  government  repudiated.  557— proofs 
of  ttio  tiuhYemeul  of  Uir  press,  A. — 
deslniciion  of  penonal  liWrty,  553 — 
complettineu  and  |>ow«rof  tlic  South- 
ern GorvrmiiiGDl,  S64  —  rvco^iljon 
Hot  a  mailer  of  civility,  hut  necessity, 
5(i*  —  Anvrican  reodgoitioa  of  l)w 
rfToltol  proviaccK  of  Spain,   5i57 — 

Antwerp,  il«  former  cominercial  greai- 
ttcE5,  sat — •  n  Inadcd  puiol  diTMkd  to 
Ihe  lieart  of  Eos'aM'l.*  40fi. 

Art.-  ill  proper  Bphi-rt,  Creation,  I5«— 
rntoniiioa  at  woHc  in  Art  •todin. 
210. 

Arnndu)  CaslI?,  historical  recollccUons 
•Mociaitd  with,  (.\, 

Aatronomj-,  Pkto'i  cocoepiion  of  a 
hlghtT.  »41. 

Attiitrt  d'lffrntiamge,  atllitv  of,  391       i 

Atnoipheric  priotipW  of  railway  wotk- 

AacUrad't  (Lord]  dinnaaion  of  G«Qne 

lU.  firom  CaihoUc  relkf,  aC3. 
Anstralliii  TolnnleerB.  137. 

a 

Baxter  (KicJiBrd\  bis  ejection.  248. 
BcwhejF  Head,  aea-fifbioff,  ;«. 
Becket,  tradition    ronn«cud    with  hia 

mnrderets,  69— mat«rtali  for  Ua  lifts, 

103. 

Vol.  112.— iVb.  224. 


Dedfonl'i  (Ouke  of)  vlolenM  in  bia  in< 

terfiew  with  G«org«  UL,  SM. 
BeljtSum.  ita  faoabaodry  tiie  moal  flntalied  j 
iu  Europe,  380— geological  obau^ea. 
*.  —  iutwidencc    of  thr   land,   391  — 
eneronchnveut  of  the  tea,  a«2  —  the 
whole  population  of  England  fonnfily 
elotb«d  by  ibe  Flcmislt.  .193 — an  ap- 
IMflaire  of  fipniii  for  170  ywre.  3«4 — 
uiUchrd  lo  Austria  for  80  jnn,  A. —  j 
oppo«ile   iuicnvts  of   Holland   and 
Bclginm^  3S %— pnMperlly  during  ihe 
nnton  wnh  Holland.  3«7-|tan)etilike 
•PpearaiKe    of  Ihc    cooMry.    m>i — 
a^iculbne,    390  — Courwil    of   Ag- 
ncttltnre,  392— Pfoviooial   Connci&, 
^. — elaadflcatinn  of  iho  populaiiou, 
SOS— assimilation  of  the  coustltuttou 
to  the    Britlib,   t"!-.  -  -  rcpn^c-nlative 
■j'atem.  393— ekmeaiary  inslrnciion. 
394 — «tftirrt  rf'ip.pfinitimtif,  >A.  — coal 
flalda  and    iron   mlnea.  .1*H1  —  cJotb 
miOB&elure.  307— ndapUtion  lo  f»- 
rewn  markets,  i^.- FMsiam  nwea  ita 
imw^denM  to  Great  Britain,  39t — 
Belgium  the  point   of  iniorwdion  of 
England,  Fratic^r,  nnd  Germauy,  403 
— imporuneo  of  ita  indcpendcoco  to 
Enrope,  404— impowibilily   of  Eng- 
land'* aoqntaueDee  in  lit  annexation 
to  Pfanre,  406. 
BiocntmaiY  of  lh«  ejection  nf  the  Pnri- 
taa  miniansrs,   S3S  — iai()itiioiis  dii- 
plaennent  of  the  cler^>y  in  l«4i>,  239 
— taking  of  th«  Covenant  tiiauc  coni- 
pulaorjr  in   1643.   943— nix    to  seven 
thootand  clergymen    cjcru-d.   S44— 
birbaritifli  attendiitg  ihrir  expulUoo, 
*.— fltltocy  of  Dr.  Vanghati  rcapeetmg 
Ihe  Dumntr  nf  llie  ejcriod  eirrfy  r«> 
fb|e<l,  1^.   -  noecdoTrs  of   n-ftiial   of 
tffWn    S47 — ejection   of   tbe   Noo- 
CC-afbrmistt    iu   1062,    S49— Uiltnn'a 
opinion,  250  —  the  BicenwiaTT  ilio 
eommwiMmcnt  of  a  grtat  pomleal 
B^tatlon,  ^53  — Mr.  Miall'it  laetlrs, 
857— «ry  of  '  Compreheaaaon,'  UiS, 
*9e '  Church  Teata.* 
fiignor,  Roman  antiquttea  iliacorervtl 

nt.  «0. 
Blakisiun's    (Captain'j    nrenmt  of  tiwi 
Chinese  rebenioo,  Mi2. 

a  r 


672 


INDEX  TO  VOL.  112. 


Ultichvr,  Tbleia'a  iiujutl  muurks  op, 
431-,. 

Boroufti)  Eagliebt  tU  prevalence  iu 
Stuwx,  £5. 

BnUmit'i  (Dnk<>  of)  pluu  for  deve- 
loping ilif  commerce  of  Belgiutn,  401 
— <AjvclioiM  to  hit  theory,  tOi. 

Bnuil,  Belgian  oaigraUvu  to.  403— 
slavcrr  io,  569. 

Bright  (Mr.),  ihe  Cleon  of  the  Libe- 
roiioa  Souetj.  a&6  —  paoegyrica  on 
Amcricera  ietaocncy,  MO. 

Drigliion,  hbtorical  paiiicubn  rcspcel- 
itig.  67. 

Brine't  (Commuidec)  account  of  Ihe 
ChliMse  rebel*,  50fi. 

DrngM  formerly  the  gnat  mart  of  an- 
tloot,  HS3. 

Brunei  (Sir  Mnrk  I,},  his  carlv  iiisiitict 
of  cocsiTQciioB,  3— enters  the  Frmcli 
CSV}-,  4  -~  uarrow  ««e*pe  during  ihc 
Keitf  n  of  Terror,  5 — iovention  of  block 
mncnincry,  J^chirf  engineer  of  the 
city  of  New  Yofk,  ii. — mitrrSjg«  with 
Hb6  Kiogdom,  8— hU  *arioas  invtn- 
lions  and  pattnU,  ii/. — couipk'lioD  of 
block  mocninrry,  10 — hit  rcwanl  in- 
ade^oate.  II — imprisoDeJ  for  dcM, 
l.t— lulditiunal  Qorerument  granl.  Hi. 
—  <.->pi-rimcnl  in  strain  nnfigailou, 
14— cuBatrncticHiof  iheThamea  Tun- 
uel,  15  —  history  of  Ihe  entfrprise, 
16— apriles  to  its  formadoa  Uic  jirin- 
ciple  of  the  ttredtt  nm.iilia,  ib. — mode 
of  boring  the  tunae),  19— cunvtmc- 
lioa  of  the  BhiHil.i'j.— ddlcrt-iit  in  the 
boshieca  qoaliiy,  24. 

Britoel  (I.  Kingdom),  bis  early  life,  1 7 
— activity  and  coinage  in  ihr  con- 
Btructioaof  the  Thatnca  Tiinnrl,  2*^ 
his  engiucerina  work*,  SS—cnginecr 
of  Ihc  (Jrext  ft'eetera  Railway.  20 — 
akiU  in  dcsignioe  liridgcE  abiig  the 
line,  V8— the Soatli  IVvon  RailwAy  an 
iuiformnat«  uiulenakiDg.  3u —  em- 
ploys the  ataiospheric  principle  in 
railvay  working,  i"*.  —  liridgei  of 
Ohcpatow  and  Saltash,  33  —  deiiacc 
an  iran-plitcd  anucd  ship,  3i — con- 
atruDlion  of  the  '  Great  Weaiern '  ojtd 
'Great  Brilaio  'tteomahips,  .^( — the 
'Great  Ea*tcrti'  his  hut  work,  33— 
remarkable  cscapM  ftvm  death,  ib.-— 
invents  an  appamlui  for  extracttng  a 
coin  from  the  windpipe,  36. 

BnisacU  lace,  a  wonderful  fabric,  39'. 

Buchanan  'President),  an  example  of 
■he  cvill  of  a  t<inpor»ry  and  (riectivv 
govt-nimcDt,  54t. 

I'niitUiitt  temples  de»tro^ed  b}'  the  Tae- 
'pirgi,  814, 


Burials  Bill,  a  proposal  of  'OoBOprc^ 
heiisiou '  on  a  grand  Mile,  SfiS.  Ste 
■  Church  Teats. 

Bom  on  Belgian  aaricnltnre,  3S9. 

Borns,  paralltl  of  Cow|wr  niid.  177. 


C. 

CcHir'a  debarkationi  io  Itritaia,  diflei^ 
cul  opiiiioita  respecting,  79. 

t^anihronne  (Geitcrel),  veralonH  of  tbe 
siorj-  of,  44S. 

Canadian  voluutc«r(,  137. 

Cuiiutttg,  cliaraeier  of,  36S — lus  qoBirel 
with  Ijord  Csxilereagh,  971 — tbnm- 
tion  of  his  ministry,  ib.  —  mlsrcpra- 
senied  by  Uie  editor  ufRose'i "  Diary,* 
3T5— his  <|uaUtJea  aa  a  speaker,  377.  i 

Canterbary  (Archbishops  of}.  Dean 
Hook's  Uvea  of,  83  — Auelo-Saxoa 
wriod,  89  —  relation  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  chdPch  u*  Rome,  91— Anrio- 
Norman  period,  91t  —  ccllisiooa  be- 
tweeu  the  Crown  and  Church,  ft. — 
I^nfVano,  96— Anaelm,  07 — Hecket, 
10]— nggesiiotiB  fbr  a  new  edhioo  of 
lh-«  iind  correspoodence  of,  103  — 
his  chancellorship,  103 — Langton's 
mmggle  a^tainsl  Kinp  John,  lu?— hia 
'  Uoraliu,'  108-  general  cbaracleiislica 
of  thi;  .ArcMiidhop!".  110. 

Calhnlic  relief.  opp<uiiion  of  I<or<l« 
Anokl.-indand  I.uiighborotigh  to  Pitt's 
project  of,  363. 

Claries  ll.'s  escape  fVom  Brighton,  S7. 

Chatham  (Lord),  ehiroctcr  or.  36X. 

ChicUtatiT,  bittory  of,  87  —  archile*- 
tural  charaeteristiea  of  the  calhedrul, 

as. 

China,  rebellico  in,  SOD — polilical'im- 
portance  of  tlie  sihtem  of  examina* 
lions,  &U1  —  the  Kmnemr  Kang<hl, 
ik.  —  the  Emperor  Keea-lnng.  )&.— 
cowardice  of  the  Maocfaiu,  313  — 
pirates,  &59~op)Din  cnltirntiun,  533. 
Str  '  Taepinga.' 

Church  (AuKli>Nuntiau),  the  protector 
of  the  weiiK,  94. 

Church  tcfts.  qucaiiott  of  read jnttingi . 
SOS— acbemes  for  altering  th«  Ibrnu- 
laries,  364  — Ihe  Burials  Bill,  Ki. 
Scr '  Bicentenary.' 

Cinque  porta,  kitotiA  of  the.  77. 

Clergy  id  1643,  barbarities  attomttng 
Iheir  ojectioo,  t4-l.  ^'^i^'UieeiKeiiary. 

Cobdcii's  (Mr.)  'Three  Panic*,'  110 — 
bJlacte*.  114— at  'Hoi  dc*  Beiges,* 
40ft~onialoB  ifapeeting  the  bluikji- 
■tiofl  of  Bclgiam  to  Franec,  A. 

Colet'B  (Captain  C.)  iarcBtioB  adapted 


4 


I 
I 

I 


1\DKX  TO  VOL.  112. 


:.t:i 


to  the  Aawriesii '  Hoailor,'  34 — pUa 

of  Mti«'«<  defioice,  115. 
Colliu's  monniDai^  SS — ^"Ode  od  Uie 

Puuou,'  1S8. 
GolnmUa  (Brititli),  r*ftA  advaitceDieDt 

of,  320. 
Coln-plut.  390. 
Cornnllif  (Lord),  DUmtj  ud  Corre- 

qtoodeBce,  3M. 
Cowper's    poetrr,    cbanctoistics    of, 

1 76— «orapsna  with  Bains,  1 77. 
Cnbbe'<  poetry,  175. 
Critidsm,  canon  ot,  306. 
Cnniiirell's  — —— — t  of  the  garrisons 

of  Drogheda  aod  Wexford,  514. 
Cathman  (St.),  l^end  of,  C5. 

D. 

Dalies  and  TatuhaD's  translation  of 
Plato'a '  Repobhe,'  307. 

Defence  (natiraial),  extent  of  assailable 
coast-lute,  124 — telegraphs  and  rail- 
wajB,  ■&. — means  of  resistance  to  be 
Icept  ia  readiness  for  an  invasion,  137 
^-coast  Tolonteen,  129 — morable  bri- 
gades, A.— protecUoD  of  the  Mersey, 
Tyne,  and  Clyde,  131  —  the  vital 
points,  dockyards,  and  arsenals,  with 
Dover  and  Portland,  132— march 
upon  London,  134 — fonr  lines  of  de- 
fence, 13S— Briehton  review  demon- 
strates the  facibty  of  moving  troops 
by  railway,  143  —  particulars  of 
meaiis  of  railway  transport,  ib. 

Democratic  institntions,  failure  of,  538. 

Devil's  Dyke,  tradition  respectiDg  it,  CG. 

Dissenters.    See  '  Bicentenary.' 

Dodd's  (G.)  engineering  projecU  and 
miserable  end,  15. 

Dogma,  defence  of,  448 — absurdity  of 
Mr.  Maurice's  description  of  the  use 
of  Creeds.    See  '  Fwth.' 

Dover,  three  reasons  for  tlie  defence  of, 
133. 

Dryden,  change  in  English  poetry  in- 
augurated by,  1 47— criticism  ou  his 
'Alexander's  Feast,'  156. 

Durham  breed  introduced  into  IWl- 
gium,  391. 

Dyer's  poetry,  167. 

E. 

Ebury's  (Lord)  advocacy  of  'Compri!- 

hensioD,'  260.    See  '  iMcentenary,' 
Ecclesiastical  Courts,  anomaly  in  their 

constitution,  499. 
Education,  liberal  diatinguishi-d    from 

profession^,  9t— Dean  Hook's  obier- 

vations  on  University,  ib. 


Eldoo  (Lord\  anecdote  of.  73 — nisre- 
fMWScntation  rei^teeting,  375. 

Elective  sovereigntr,  its  evils,  541. 

Ellicott's  (Dean,  coalribotion  to  '.\ids 
to  Faith.'  460. 

Eaghieer,  drawing  the  alphabet  of  the, 
S5. 

*  Essays  and  Reriewa,'  answers  to,  445 
— their  stalcnesa  and  plasiaiism.  47 1 
— oondeaned  by  the  nuopa  of  Ibe 
United  Church,  477— eoodenaatory 
address  of  10,000  clergymen,  481— 
'  E^bnrgh  Reviewer's '  strictarM  on 
the  tone  of  Dr.  Williams  and  Mr. 
Wilson,  433— jud^eat  of  the  ConK 
of  Arches,  *, — principle  of  Dr.  Lush- 
ington's  judgment,  484 — bis  censure 
of  the  ambiguous  laupiagv  of  IDr. 
Williams  and  Mr.  Wilww,  A — on 
what  ground  Dr.  Williams  con- 
demned. 4S7— 1>r.  WtlUamt's  mode 
of  receiving  the  judgment,  489  — 
groundsofthesentcucenu  Mr.  Wilson, 
493  —  consequences  of  the  principle 
I  pervading  the  Judgment  494.  ^«M 
•  Faith  ■  and  *  Tracts." 

Evangelical  movonicnt,  advantage*  of 
the,  455. 

Exhibition  (Intcrnatio»Bl\  171— di'ler- 
minatiou  of  the  tsltv,  I8l~amiiige- 
ment,  183  —  architectural  combina- 
tions of  iron  and  ^Isss,  184— original 
design  of  Captain  Fowke,  186  — 
nature  of  the  structure,  191 — mis* 
management  in  respect  to  exht- 
bilors,  193  — first  condition  of  th« 
nave,  194  —  Palgrave's  IlandtMxik, 
196 — * Ilollingxhead's  Chronicle'  of 
the  ninclccnin  century,  t'^.— obsurd- 
itii-B  of  the  IlluKlraled  Cnlnlogiie, 
197— Jury  Reports,  »').— Court-dwsi 
ceremonial,  198 — Exhibitions  of  1H51 
and  1803  contrasted,  901  — lluislan 
contributions,  903— Austrian,  304— 
Belgian,  &o.,  305— the  French  dts* 
play  typical  of  the  nation,  306— con- 
trastcd  with  the  Kngliih  display,  S09 
—  notices  of  particular  worai  of  art, 
Sll— architectural  drawings,  313  - 
Minlon'sniajolicafountaln,3tA— 8kid- 
mnre's  scrccUtSIO— general  character 
of  English  industrlarart,  317. 

F. 

Fsith,  attoekl  on  the  cardinal  doctrinM 
of,  363. 

Faith  (Aids  to),  44.'(— defence  of  dogms, 
448 — Bishop  of  Oxford  on  encourag' 
ing  religious  doubts,  449 — douhtful- 
DCM  sot '  a  iiored  a«my  of  the  soul,' 

2f2 


£74 


INDEX  TO  VOL.  112. 


Imt  B  temptation  to  be  reniclod,  «0— 
iwo  modvi  of  dt-fcBdiDg  failfa  ngniiul 
lU  aiMil«Qla,  453— the  rpfuiatiop  of 
«mw  oegativT  ot,\y,  .!i.— buUJing  nji 
ilwi  irtilh  agftiiiit  tJi*  ncrvemoii  of 
error  f>o«itivF,  ib.^Wabop  of  Glou- 
c«»t«r'»  '  Aids  10  F4ilh.'4S4— itn  aiao 
I  ewaj^,  i'-,— advantogts  of  the  evao- 
gtlk'Bl  movcmfnt,  453— i-vi!»  of  de- 
prMiiiiiiig  intci-nal  .tideootf  jn  xhe 
eiahniion  of  «xu-rnat,  45«-MuiU'l'ft 
•  Miricle*  u  Evidfoces  of  Chrl»t- 
unily,'  457— Dmii  EllW(t*»  contri- 
buUoii.  X60 — bis  ^indieatiou  of  the 
inspiration  of  Scriiiltirc,  iSl— five 
ruirt  fw  ilu,  study  of  Scripture,  463 
—  reply  of  tli«  Bisbop  of  ExcUt 
lo  Dr.  Temple.  479— iifi-nloglcal  in- 
iFrprelaiion.  497.     8k  'Etmjt  and 

Pederai  Ibmi  of  goteniiDcait,  its  etwn- 
lial  wcakorsH,  541. 

Fedflraia  iafauwusljr  led,  S45-  .*W 
'  America.* 

Fwld-tuleo  baffle  U)e  atmwplMric  prin- 
ciple of  railwaj  working.  31. 
I  ^noon  (hc«p-fair,  (14. 
'  Flax  euItiMtion  in  Belgium,  Ml. 

Poreignen  iiatnr»li»ed  lu  Knglnnl,  1. 

Fox,  errotieouc  uoiiun  respt^nting  bi* 
Diagninimilj-.  Ob7— why  excluded 
iVoiii  the  roifign  0£Bw  by  Piit,  3c9. 

French  literature  ^nindeni»,  S7I. 

■ National    Gnanl,  General   Ge. 

De»u*i  larcasm  on  llie,  laO, 

Fnciicli  writer*,  two  8chool«  of.  cliajao- 
l«riMd.  27fi. 


G. 

Ga»  fwr  steam  in    the   prodoelioa  of 

taoiire  powflr,  Bnliitiintioe  of,  H 
Ganges,  battle  of  the,  27. 
Qermaia'a   (Si.)   woriU   rvc<Mninei)d«a, 
972.  ' 

Clieul,  ■  impovoriahed    tuaonlaetiirliur 
I      population  of,  403. 
Cihlwn,  buriuJpIace  of,  42. 
Qloucater'a     iHigliop    <3f)    ■  Aida    to 

Faitii,'4&5.    .Sir.- •  Kaitli.' 
GocMlwood  racta,  16. 
Cray's  Elegy.  cliaracteriMicj  of,  169. 
Greek  muacne  of  20.UOU  of  tfa«  Moa. 
I    «olm»»  population  in  l»ai,  tu. 
rOrenTille  character,  immobility  of  ibe. 
SOS, 
OriBln's  (RCT.  T.  N.)'Se»en  AM«r» 

t«  the  Soren  Ecaarins,'  471. 
OundrwlBB  tomb,  di»co>ery  pf,  fi«. 


H. 

{lasting  panicaljira  of  th«  bttilc  o^  81. 
Havaiiau,  or  Sandwich  Ulanda.  919 — 
£  roujecurcson  tJieir  geological  fonna- 
lioo,     230— trnditions,     2il— eqoabK* 
lempcraiore  and  feriUily.  US— pby . 
aical  qualities  of  the  uiivr^  tU— 
ludulcBce  and  sensuality,  195 — '  tabu,' 
926— a  fentoi*  premief,  997 — natioml 
breaking  of  Ibe  taboo,  998— deatnic- 
tioD  of  40,000  idol*.   t&.— aaeenlota) 
opposition  to  tlie  cattnction  of  idol* 
Btry,  929— boding  of  the  «m  aiia- 
tioDaiii-s,  230— Chiiitiaa  bcraiim  of 
Kapiolanl,     931  —  tbe    volcano    of 
Kifauea,  <5.— intantlride,  9S3— defret 
of   Congrcgaliiiualima    in    mioloiu, 
235 — nstivea  reject  Romaniain,  A. — 
flnindation  of  t&d  »ee  of  Hone]lalt^ 
299— eharactcrorthe  King,  sae. 
Hvrcditai7  BOTctvigntv,  &4I. 
HoUaud,  great  inuixlatioo  of  189fl,  382 
—poMiblp  mi  biucrgence  of,  dt— object 
of  tbe  Aliiud  Powen  in  anacxing  the 
Aatirian  Neiheriand*  to,  38S. 
Nnuolnlu,  foundation  of  tJie  Sc«  of,  93&. 
Hook*  (.Dean )   •  Lives   of"  ibe   Arcb- 
Wshopi  of  {Janlerbury."  63— bis  dU- 
trust  of  id<^]i>ina,S4— biaiofui  that  of 
.  AD  Anglican  ChurchmaB,  6S. 
tlopkiiMi^  account   of  tbe  &advieli 

Ulands  reeDsanieiidMl,  390. 
tlowBrdt.  f  iciftsilndca  of  the,  fil. 
Hugo's  rvictor)'  LetMfa<mblca.'9?J- 
bii  exceptional  potiliMi  in  French  Hte- 
ralure.  ij.—'  Lea  Hiatfrables  "  wriitM 
parUy   by   Vi«or    Hugo    the    Poet, 
p»rtly  by  Viclw  Uugo  llie  Quack. 
■&■— hit  languag*  and  ilyte,  «;8 — bis 
ignorance  of  social  and  political  phi- 
toBOjihy,  S06— tcoount  or  tU  battle 
of  Waterloo.  4i(8.    St*  *ULi^bl«»* 
and  '  Waterhio.' 
Huuliogtou,  3.  S.  OVUIian),  bis  epitaph. 
CD. 

I. 

ItnmortaJity  of  the  tool  ai  licid  hv 

Plato,  332. 
Infontit^de  IB  tbe  Hawaiian  Ifilanda,  S99. 
Iron  cannon,  the  first  coat  in  Kagland, 

Imn-pUtetl  Irigaten,  number  of  FrCMh. 

116. 
Irving'*  (Washington)  (nee«b  at  New 

York,  coDtntting  Kagland  aatl  Anw- 

rico.  539. 
Ilaliau  pncirj,  effect  on  il  of  aplrltual 

and  l^inponil    tyranny,    ir>6— Tatao 

and  Arioslo  rrlniipertlve,  it. 


4 


INDEX  TO  VOL.  113. 


»75 


J. 

Jow«tt^  (ProftMor)  hteumcf  in 
Matin;  ftccx,  4«;— plagiankD,  4««. 

fndgM  (HeetifD)  the  orMitarai  of  the 
pvople,  ft43. 

K. 

[  Kilio's.  desoriplioo  of  lh«  grekt  volc&nu 
of,  S32. 


rUlativf  chsmWn  uulofpms  to  th« 
loiiseorixin]t,CoDliDeiiUl  Mlont  in 

CstnblubiDg,  S5S — aiionialy  m   their 

00m{K)«iUOD,  r^. 
I>an8rd  (St),  patron  of  prisouit*  wiJ 

invHlen,  si. 
Leopold  (King;.  obligallotiB  of  nclginm 

to,  409. 
Lewe»  IjctcU,  numeroai  churches  on, 

70. 
■    ,  MIb*  of,  «8— priory,  B8. 
Lii^iAf*  (I-oH)  'Sceptleum  and  the 

Church  oTEugland,'  471. 
Loagh borough's  (Ix>rrl)  inflne&ce  wiik 

George  III,   agalntt  Catholic  relief. 

set. 

Louis  XtV.  u  unletlerotl  nod  ricious 

king,  15), 
I.AU)i  Pbilippc'a  ch&racUr  drawn  lijr 

Victor  llogo,  904, 
Lu»hiDgiaii'8(I)f.)]i«Igmetiton  *EBa}( 

BDd  Rerlewi,'  48-1.     Sfe  '  Eanj*  Mul 

RcTlflWl.' 

— (II.)  psTOpfalcu   on    the 

broad  gftnge,  37. 

M. 

Mtldcnhetd  Railway  Bridge,  its  an-faet 

the   widen    and    flattm    evtrr    cob- 

(tmcled  of  briplta,  S9. 
MalmeibnrjF  (Lord),  Diariei  and  Cor> 

ncpoodeooe  of,  3M. 
Musel't    (Ur.)    laminous    cunv    on 

*  Miracles  u   Evidences  of  bhru- 
•   tianiiy,'  45;. 

Maunre,  imiKirtanc?  of  liquid,  399. 
Masacrcs    by   conqnenwi    In    ree«Dt 

dni(«,  514. 
Uandslay   (HX  invi^nlor  of  Ute  sltde- 

Maoriee'i  <lt«T.  F.)  bard  laAgoag*  to 
hi*  u|ipoDcats,  14T~ab«urdil]'  of  bis 
drfciioc  of  Creeds  aiid  Articles,  »!>. 

Meadowf  [Mr.J  ou  the  Chinese  rc< 
b;-llioo.  513. 

Member  of  Parllanent  a  dynOTnoiieter, 
S5«. 


Menoin  (English  Political')  eontrasted 
liilb  French  Memoir*,  S47— aid  in 
ibe  ftiudy  of  CoosiitutioDal  Govern- 
uienl,  349 — luttare  of  the  cdiionhip 
rvquircd  for  them,  SM — demarcailan 
bi'tween  periods,  .t&7 — the  two  great 
political  parties  evenly  rtpmcolad, 
359  -  DiemoiiT  do  not  ovurthrow  the 
traititioiitil  mimale  of  public  men, 
3113— illnstratioa  iu  (be  cam  of  the 
Duke  of  Uedford  aiid  Ixird  Cluilbnni, 
3fi1— t-ord  C^tlereAgh  anil  Piit,  M& 
— Canning  an  «xcvptk<o.  ."Wil— ho« 
the  nile  ts  niudififd  in  (be  case  of 
Fox,  367— duly  of  ediion  of  political 
Btrmnira,  374 — iu  violatioQ  illua- 
trailed  ia  tlie  case  of  Canning,  ib, — 
of  I^inl  Kldon,  375 

Miali  (Mr.)  ai.d  tht!  Liberation  Societj-, 
V17.     .W  lMe«ut«iiaf7.' 

Mili'slDr.; ' OlwervatboaoB Panlbtisiie 
Prindples,'  *:b. 

Miilon'a  remark  ou  Anglo-Stxea  His- 
tory, 89— cosdemiuitiott  of  Iho  elec- 
tion of  t)i«cliTgy  In  1040,  a&ir. 

Miollii'iltiEbop  of  Digiie)  poruait  In 
'  Lw  .Miiemlrfea,'  2;&. 

'  Mit<!rBb1es  <Lmj,'  aitalyaa  of  the 
plot,  37.*^ — beaatiTuI  d««eri|itinR  of 
Baptisliae,  A.  —  irp«rtc«a  of  illou- 
■eignenr  BScnwi-iin,  S7i>  -  descrip- 
tion of  Jean  VoIJcan,  461  —  real 
uniiy  of  the  work,  28S  —  carter  of 
Fnuiine,  MC — '  Umt  7\mpiU  kmi 
u»  Crdiifi,'  189  —  eoflfllei  between 
Dnty  and  Dnogvr  the  leading  Id-a  of 
ttio  wtirk,  S9S— self-McriSce.  394-- 
Marias,  397 — MenU  of  Jan4>,  IB32, 
S99  —  cliAMcier  of  I.o<iis  Philippe, 
3tM.     Sre-llugo  CV.V 

Monk's  mouacrc  of  the  gnrrtHm  of 
Dundee,  614. 

'  Moralio,'  origin  of  lb*  lerot  nppttod  to 
Srripinml  commentariea,  108. 

Morritnu's  (Dr.),  Cbloeac  traiulaticn of 
the  Bible,  errors  of,  MM. 

N. 

Nankin  taken  try  ilic  Taeplnga,  S18. 

Napier  (Bigfat  Hon.  J.)  na  tlw  staletiess 
and  plagiarisin  of  '  Essays  and  Re- 
views,' 471. 

NapoJMio  nt  Watcrlno  dewribed  by 
Victor  llngn.  4SA— reflecdoaa  of  that 
author  on  his  dowulkll.  431— Napo- 
leon's ignoble  disappearance  at 
"Wnterlon,  44S. 

Netherlands  adapted  for  cotKeDtimtitig 
the  comoierC4'  of  the  world,  394. 

Ncwhavcn,  remarkable  geology  of,  70, 


I 


57« 


INDICX  TO  VOL.  Hi 


Ney's  moTemeots  in  the  canipDigD  of 

Waterloo  defended,  416. 
NoDCDofomiuu,  th«ir  oSjwt  to  cxlcr- 

minate  Ibc  Cliuixli.  369. 

O. 

Opium  caltivation  in  Cliina.  S33. 
Onting  fcxporlation  of  wool  or  theep)^ 
p<intf  hmratt  for,  TS. 

P. 

Pa]iiiervtoD'fl(Lord)  policj'  totranU  llio 
I'^pitif's,  529. 

P*r1isni,  Art-ir«a«arei  st,  SS. 

Pcanoo'a  (Proreseor)  '  Earlj  aai 
M*m1i11«  Acn  of  England,'  99. 

Peel'i  [Sir  It,)  roscrv^  with  tli«  CloB- 
MrratWe part}'  ou  the  Coi  u  Laws. 373. 

Pekin.  relM>i  mardi  taward%  SIT.  Sm 
'  Tacpings.' 

Percy's  (John.  M.D.)  'Meullurey.'  1. 

Feter'a  rsc)  chair,  a  rciuarkablo  relic* 
4(1. 

PetwoTth,  artiatic  tr«iinr«a  of,  &3. 

Pitc'i  private  life,  mistalteD  itnpretaions 
rcapiHitiuK,  S6& — reeiguallon  in  1801 
explainnl,  36ft. 

Plato's  piatoirue«  br  Dr.  Whewell.  30C 
— rovivw  of  triDtlaliona  of  Platn,  30* 
— Pluto  a  drainatiRl  and  poet  aa  well 
B«  a  philoaoplicr,  311— criticiatn  on 
the  '  Ljr'ais,'  ib.^age  of  Socratea 
and  Plato,' 3i:i  —  irulh<i  taught  hy 
Socmte*.  ;U&— nolnrcfif  tht  intellec- 
tual rerolulion  accomnlifiheil  hy  bint, 
lb.— relation  of  Plato  n  laiDd  to  that 
of  Socnlec^  317 — ihreo  elements  of 
PlatoniephitoMiphy,  .118— Pluo  ai  a 
coutr«ri.T»iali*t.  319  — Mr.  Gmtc'a 
vindioitinn  nf  Hie  Sopliists,  ifl. — Anti- 
sn)ilii*[  dlnlogiics  «an — Plato's  phito- 
RODlijr  not  merel)-  a  tpeculation.  bwi  a 
lif«,  i\ — clasri flea t Ion  proposed  for 
Plata's  dialo|[iiea  and  other  piec^ca, 
Si\ — rsaminailon  of  particular  dia> 
lopuc*  with  a  view  to  the  chnine- 
turiKtios  of  Plato's  plitloaophy,  33S — 
lelaiion  botw«-n  Ixi»e,  Dialectic,  ami 
Teaching,  3^5  — Pblo  the  povl  of 
pbilowpliy.  228 — thrw  iiimtal  phe- 
sonna  in  the  ael  of  Socniic  inqairvj 
i'}.  —  cuDitnaiiou  of  elemeula  ijf 
Plttto's  philoflophjT,  i5. — what  is  syin- 
IwlUed  Ds  Kroa,  3Sd— disitntriioii 
between  Lorv  and  the  Object  of  Lo^e, 
330— progressive  ascent  of  the  tout  Id 
the  Idttt  of  Beautjr,  931— the  iinroor- 
tabty  of  the  sool,  a;ia— Ai*-p>i  and  *7iot 
defined,  33a— MH-aiiioj(  of  tlte  Plulonio 
iSta,  •&.— arguneat  of  the  Thentetus, 


S35— diffiereut  fonns  of  tb«  SophisI, 
33ti~the  iili-al  SopliiM,  A.— bm  of 
Ibe  word  ao^tv-riii  by  Mtthjh^,  A. 
^Bcing,  Best,  and  Motion.  M9— 
Identity  ami  Difft'renee.  ^^.  —  Ibe 
IMiilrbns.  3-ifi — tripartite  dirision  of 
the  soul,  ■*^. — Plato's  ooneeption  of  i 
higher  astronomy,  341— two  problems 
proposed  to  himself  by  Plato,  343— 
reriral  of  Platonic  stodies.  344 — tis 
Inflncnco  on  ctlucalion  and  litentttuv. 
345. 

Platonism  (laodemi,  344— efleci  of  neo- 
Platmiio  philosapby  on  Scbolastic'tsm 
and  Sopcnthion.  A. 

Poetry  (English',  effVct  of  poUtkal  and 
social  circunutanefB  on,  MC— clwnj:* 
inan^ratedhyDryden.  14? — 'Frenvh 
Sfltool,'  US— p»ciido-c1nsdcal  spirii, 
149— iulclU-Giual  i«Tolulioa  in  the 
17th  cciilnry,  15(1— defect  of  llie 
Eliabeihan  poeta,  151— key  to  lite 
r«aetiOD  which  OLYnpled  ihclr  mo- 
cctsora,  lai— didaelicstyleof  thttlatt 
century,  1S4 — Nestoratioa  acboal,  155 
_w(ini  not  Roman  claasicalism,  IA8 — 
the  ticorginn  litentare,  ICO — course 
of  poetry  from  1730,  i4,— '  Popo  aad 
his  followcn*  an  erroBBoot  ripres- 
siou,  ICI— law  ot  snbordioation  to 
the  spirit  of  the  age.  IC3 — didactia 
poets,  163 — characieriitics  of  Thofn- 
sou,  IfiS— Dyer.  167— Collius,  1S8— 
two  moods  of  the  mind  in  regard  lo 
poetry,  168 — Gray's  El«gy  cltarai;- 
tctUed.  1C9  — the  Wanooi.  i;o  — 
{^posits  Icndendea  of  p<wtry  io  the 
enrlier  and  latter  part  of  the  ISih 
ceotury,  173 — Ramsay  and  Gay.  174 
-lyrical  liftrralires,  ib. — pauM  in 
poetry  alW  17*n.  1 7fi— Cmiibe,  «fc^— 
law  of  external  inflnencM.  tlt^^elnu 
rnct-fTisiicsof  Cowper's  poeitpr,  ITC — 
lurallel  tM-twuen  Cowper  and  Uurns, 
177. 

Political  power,  betw««a  whom  iW 
straggle  for,  542. 

irttimiioos,  two  gwat  opfNMtM 

functiotiK  v(,  fV43. 

Poliliea  anil  war,  gcuim  oF,  emlniatnl, 
41S. 

Pope  not  tbc  foouder  of  a  d*w  ouuuicrJ 

ICI. 
Puppv  cultivation  in  Belgium,  iBH. 
Pmxet  (K.)  imniUiioB  of  Plato's  PU-j 

tebus  oharaclcrisMl.  307. 


R. 

Kailw&f  (Great  WcctonX  plan  at,  97'-1 
the  mixed  gnnge.    X8— rctnsrlnUe 


I 
I 


d 


IN1>EX  TO  VOL.  112. 


577 


bridgva  alniif  ibe  Iiii«r  H.—Bax  lun- 
ncl,  2y— methods  of  laying  dowu  the 
pentwaeiit  mhv,  16. 
tt)'B  pfwait,  173. 
ip»  of  SnsMx,  ■u|)pDS«d  eijnnolo^, 
63. 

BfbrllioB  of  174&  coiii[Mrcd  wilh  the 
Aromrsn  ciri!  w»r,  &GI. 
eput«»  of  a  Freucb  Ui^op,  'i16. 
epttdiutiou,  Amcncan,  S13, 

irntion,  Victor  llufto's  tv-nK  on  lhi>, 
264. 
|%icbEDond's  ( Uuchett  of;  ball  befuri!  (I>e 

battle  of  Waterloo,  4)  ft. 
I'Sobvrt*  (Iter.  I.  J.),  tbe  Clitii«K  oit- 

■iooarj,  &U7,  917 — his  fiiUure,  SS9. 
f'SuDiaocf  in  every  life,  3. 
SomanUm  rt^tid  by  tbc  Uawaiiuii.  as 
umilar  (c  their  old  nipcntitiou,  295. 
Bomilly's  (Sir  8.)  ParlbmenUry  Diarjr, 
r     399. 

(fioM  r^  G.).  J«a  d'ffprit  oC  72. 
BuBcU's  ( itev.  A.  T.)  *  Leiler  I0  lh« 
Bishop  of  Oxford,"  471, 

BL 

Saltash  vladnet,  dctoripiioa  of,  33. 
SaTcry.  iiiveotor  of  ibc  first  wurkjug 

Btcun-copne,  2. 
Sooteb,  partinlitr  of  Frrocli  aatbon  for 

tkc;  4-iff. 
Seou  Orc>s  at  Waterloo,  439. 
Sdiiild  doted  for  ISii  years.  S94. 
SckolaHici>ii]  anil  ^ujxiisliliun,  effect  of 

iic»-Plal<jnic  ptiilotoptiy  on,  3t4. 
Seotwaioa  due  to  DiL*  delects  of  tlie  Tedc- 

rtl  system.  643.    ^V«  *  America.' 
Sening  mannftwtory  oue  of  Ihv  wonders 

of  tb«  world,  390. 
Shirley,  ibe  thive  hrckthen,  *i. 
Shirley's  {Hcv.  W.  W.)  •  (^untioDB  con- 

nrclod  viib   tbe    Cbaiiccllorsbip  of 

Becket,'  105. 
Shi^emakiiig-Bmchiiirs,  fsiluvo  of.  13. 
Slavery,  iti  deterioralinif  iotiiiLiieie  mi 

the  white  nau,  558 — its  prmtiaWe  Talc 

til  tb«  Coufedvney,  5'J9— Slavvrj  in 

Unixil  aivd  Turkey,  ib. 
Slide-rest,    Importance    of  ilii;    Inrru- 

lion,  9, 
Socmtffi,  nature  of  ilie  iulflleeittal  rcio- 

latiou   sccomnlishiid    by,   31 S.      f>>r 

'PUlfi.' 
SoDtbdovm  Sheep,' iS. 
Sophist,  the  Mesl,  33G. 
Sussex.  iU  history  in  Saxoii  times,  40 — 

charBclerislic   features,   41 — distill* 

gaiibcd    oaiivM,   4i — vcclesiological 

ijMeiiQeos,  43— local  bblflriaos,  44 — 

Smwx  nod,  45— Bteotian  cleatetil. 


46 — Sovlfadown  aheep,  48-disliiio- 
tire  ^hra  of  gpological  divisloDS,  49 — 
specuncQ  of  the  vcniacular.  50— loual 
uotneDcluturc,  5:^  — C'owdray  Uous« 
and  Petwortb,  55  —  prevaleDw  of 
IJoroogb- English,  a. — Qoodwood.  57 
^Chicbester.  ifr.— thrvo  crest  Kouan 
mads,  SS'-BiRDor,  60— Brighton,  67 
— l*wea  I*v«T§,70—re(Darkahle  geo- 
logy at  NeThavcB.  •'!>.— Scaford,  71 — 
Sussex  While  llnrse,  71 — smuggling 
Bodowling.  70 — herring  season,  73  — 
description  of  the  bolUi:  of  Uostings, 

S>icc«t«,  Tictor   Hugo's  elo<iaeut  ana- 

lUeoia  on,  379. 
Sufieratitioii,  vlToCt  of    PiBtoiiisui  tfo, 

an. 


T. 

Tabu  Cor  Taboo),  tbe  instrtimwit  of 
priwrti}  and  nnl  lyntnay,  226, 

Tacpiiig  (Urcat  Peace)  itebellion.  na- 
ture and  history  of  the  tnnv«netil, 
500 — oruria  of  the  rrbollioii,  502— 
c«nerorH»nff-«iu-l8nra,  503 — Lcsng 
Afah's  'Gooa  Words  cxborliDg  tlw 
Age.*  504 — visions  of  Huog-siu-Uum, 
505 — '  Copgregatiua  of  the  Wor&hlp* 
pers  of  God,'  54ii'— llung-siu.tsueu  s 
ttudy  uf  the  Scripture*  aiider  tbe 
RtrT.  I.  J.  KolKrts.  .'i07-~i]«truction 
of  idoU,  501  ~  t.-c«tatie  fits  of  tbe 
'. G o<l- worth ippcr*,'  5<IS — lluug-«ia- 
iMteu's  atuit)!  tif  military  taclka,  510 
— imiuoliatv  r»tiv  vT  the  onlbreak, 
i5.— oreaiiisatioii  of  tlw  iosargent 
army,  511— llung-sia-lsuen  assunea 
tbe  title  of  'ilen-Wang  (HeaTonly 
King),  51S  —  religious  aoctriii«  pro* 
claimed  by  the  first  Eniperor  of  Utc 
Taeping  djnafiiy,  (6. —  'Jesus,  the 
Celestial  Elder  ikother,'  5)U--laking 
of  Naukiti,  519—1(0.000  men.  wouieo, 
and  children  masaacreil.  Ml— Taing 
(Imperial)  atrocities  cvtn  greater,  515 
— destruction  of  Buddhist  temples^ 
516 — inviiatioa  to  Ur.  JIobLTts  the 
minsiouarT,  517  —  present  extent  of 
the  Taeping  rate,  519— tbe  Trimc- 
tncal  Classic,  5'J  1— social  coadition  of 
the  TaetMOgs.  523— Mr.  Kobcrta's  uu. 
nicceRRil  mifston  to  Nankin,  51!5— 
present  condittou  of  the  Tavpiug 
eapilaii  537— the  Tav]iiug»'  eneon- 
ragvmeni  of  foi-eign  cotnmeree.  5S9 — 
threats  lo  dettroy  the  Tta-pUat  ifoj^' 

iMso<l  by  the  Buropcen  powers,  ib. — 
■ord  Paltnersloa's  policy,  ib. — (vapee* 
tire  pTospecu  of  tbe  Tartan  and  Tsc- 


I 


fi7a 


IXUEX  TO  VOL.  112. 


fiiigt,  TiSu— Britith  asdctiOM  to  ttiu 
n(>tTial  (iareniiaRilr  iSS. 

Tca-f)lftut,  Chiocie  ihnat  lo  dettroy 
the,  5i9. 

Tvmple'i  (Dr.)  Easa;  traced  u  Lnfiag 
BiKt  tlceel,  473  —  pftrsU?l  puttM 
from  Dr.  Temple  guid  UcgiJ.  A. — ^Bis 
leller  tu  the  Iliftliop  of  Ks«lcr,  478. 

Teiinciiri (Sir  G.) Tour  iji  Brlaiam,397. 

TVr^fe  fkivu^M,  lU  mod*  of  wockiii^ 
vmploj-od  la  «tca<ratuig  the  Thuncs 
Tunnd.  Ifi. 

ThsniM  I'unn^I,  inundationa  dcterilKd, 
31.  Tl.     .'•W  •  Bnintl.' 

Tliirrs'  ofjcnnnC  of  Walcrloa,  41 1 — relii- 
Ution  of  hissutctntiil  r(rf)>e<riiti|t  tlie 
Olgleof  the  latb  1t«f:iuei>t,  431— liia 
lauggcTuiiou  atid  ■uinn'pn.-KCiiUUOiii 
43a  —  uitjtw  reraarlu  mpt'CURg 
Bliicticr,  437.     Sre  •WaUrloo. 

Thomsun'i  Scuons,  cliaracttrrittics  of, 

■  *  Tmcu  for  PricsU  ■nd  Peopk/  Uielr 
uumatoua  clrantctcr,  44C— canoniu* 
Uou  orduablft  ktwiit  Gtxl's  truth. 4£il. 
JSm  '  Faiib." 

Tripoli  t:xa,  murder  of  94XX>  inCB.  women. 
uh)  childrco  hj  thti  Greeks  nk  &U. 

Tra)Uipt*B  (Ur.)  ohsorvaliDDS  ok  Ame* 
riean  Burte  Lcgulntiirei^  Mfl. 

U. 

ITiilfofinilr  (Act  of),  agilaiion  opiiut, 
270.  .Sw '  lliccnicimrjr '  nml '  Cliuruh 
Telia.' 

I'ailariani'  (trrn^h  diiproporlionalc  to 
their  numbms  ^f'3. 

Un'mrsicf  cdumlion.  Dr.  Hook  on,  94. 

V. 

Voliiateers,  nninWn  and  ei)*t  of,  112 — 
dlfl«rencr  l>^twccn  Ihp  voluntfcn  «nd 

'  Ih08ei>r  1&S3  Biid  IH^OX  113-lieiMrai 
UeBCBu's  ■arc'Bfiiii  ou  ihL-  Freiioh  Nil- 
ttonal  Guard,  1 2(i  —  «un»«xlon  he- 
Iweeii  volunlwrt  and  fvrti6ral'ivi>», 
1SI — ctfwi  of  the  iairodaeiinn  of  tbi> 
ritlu.  IS'^— narrow  *ww  of  the  more- 
■nmt.  IX>1 — claMtticaiiofi  of  (be  dnlira 
of  wolnntrprt,  124— roast  volootcnv. 
IM— aid  of  th<'  voltintKvs  la  auc  of 
liiTition,  I3Q— mast  b«  prepared  to 


remain  in  tlit  field,  IX— gkrriaon 
duty  pcrfonntd  by  Mrlbourue  toIuii- 
leen,  198— training  in  romp  adrau- 
lagvoiM,  •'■■ — r^rjew  on  WTiit*  Uawk 
Doiro,  139 — principal  mialake  of  the 
day  not  made  \ty  a  Tolrinlcvr,  140 — 
^iinliflCfliton  of  a  TolitniMf  olfi<«r,  tb, 
—  qutftioa  of  GoTcruiucut  aid  ex- 
nmiiwd,  146. 

W. 

Walpole's  Memoin.  Wbiggiim  of.  3i6. 

Whtxall  raluable  Ibr  bia  political  por- 
traits. 3i6. 

Ward  (.Pluinn-),  Diary  of,  858. 

Wan,  probable  effivt  of  inuderB  B[ti> 
lury  tcieiii^c  on.  liX 

WaU-rloo,ilMtballJcdc>oHbcd  bvTbivra 
»jiil  Viator  Hwo.  4  ID — mentkuNftl 
il>«  yrar  before  oj  Wellin^n  aa  the 
pioljoble  scette  of  a  decisive  battle, 
414  —  Unndnacen-ijioldrnli  d«- 
acril><>d  by  Frt-acb  hUlorinoa,  491 — 
ibi..  fi:inittH'ucein<''Ut  of  the  battle  437 
— Victor  Iliifio's  .ie**^;'-  -  '  the 
Frvuch   ^({iiadroiit.   4:  i-a't 

account  of  thp  balilc  in  ''  >'iir,' 

434—*  tlUe  (Miuuity' '  of  tibc  u|>|iniaeh 
of  Groni-hy,  437 — eharfte  of  the  tui- 
perinl  Ganrd,  4.1S— tlieir  defeat,  «(ii 
^Nspotcoo'ft  ijiiioblQ  dUappraranco. 
443 — lUeoanmr  uf  ibo  l-'n;uca  bopaleea 
fisiD  the  flrat.  44.1. 

Wellington  (Dnkc  of)  noC  sarpriaod  and 

,  outmauteuTred  at  Watvrlook  413 — faia 
Memorandnm  m  the  Defimee  of  tbr 

>    Notbcrluds,    414  — inticipatioa    of 

^  the  Forfet  de  Soifnic*  w  ibe  probable 
acene  of  a  deciiive  badic,  iV— pre- 
B«iKe  at  tiic  Dndteta  of  liicbnti-iid'a 
ball.  418 — his  dcneaooar  at  Wutcrloo 
described  by  Victor  Hugo,  fib. 

Weyer  (Van  dc>.  Belrian  coounereial 
licaty  with  Eoglsoa  BCgotiUcd  fey. 
400. 

WhewelVf  (Pr.)  'Platoale  Dialopn*,' 
cbarmottiiatio  of,  3(>9.     ■'^  '  Plato.' 

Whigs'  estrange  meal  from  the  Prioeft 
Regent.  37o. 

WiUlam  lll.'sreifn 'outtadirinvorfca 
of  imagiiiatiou,*  156. 

Williams  (Dr.),  mlsrcpfCMBtaliooa  vt, 
466,    Sm  'Esttys  IM  Ihrrlcm.' 


4 


EKU  OF  THE  UUNDBED  AM)  TWEUTU  TOLUUK. 


LOnnori  turrrta  ar  w.eanww  ixn  mm,  VAinoM  ttnn. 


3  bios  007  AM?  aaa 


1 

DATE  DUE 

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